


the (broken) road to recovery

by briwookie



Category: South Park
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gen, Let's see how this goes, M/M, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rehabilitation, basically lots of emotion eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briwookie/pseuds/briwookie
Summary: After going over the edge, Eric Cartman is sent to Peak View, a behavioral clinic in Colorado Springs. However,  when Eric meets his psychiatrist, it may take him longer than expected to leave.





	1. it will get better

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm attempting a shot at a multi-chap because I thought of this idea and I couldn't shake it, so here we are. Please keep in mind that this work will focus on psychological issues and experiences, so later on there will be a rating change. Nothing from this story is the result of a personal experience from me, or anyone. 
> 
> Please let me know how you feel regarding the work. Enjoy!

He was always taught from the moment he was born that it was best to push toothpaste from the bottom to the top.

Honestly, he considered it a pet peeve to people just push it from the middle, so he made sure he could feel the paste from the seam of the packet every time. Eric Cartman did just that, taking his red toothbrush out from his Ziploc bag, and putting a dime-sized amount on the bristles.

He looked at himself in the mirror and ignored the bags as he ran his brush underneath the faucet. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get sleep. The room wasn’t bad, even with the uncomfortable mattress, or the constant repetition of wheels scratching the floor as the nurses paced with their carts. He was fine with that. The only problem was that he didn’t like closing his eyes and resting.

Since he got to Peak View, Eric refused to cave.

He didn’t want to fall into a routine: sleep, wake, eat, attempt to improve, eat, attempt to improve again, shower, and sleep again. He refused. Most of the other teenagers here are fine with it, but he wasn’t going to fall into what they wanted him to fall into. Not here.

He glanced down and noticed more of the paste washed away, but he put it into his mouth anyways to get the grimy taste of porkchops out of his mouth.

Even the food tasted artificial. Eric would kill for a bag of Cheesy Poofs, but when he went into the cafeteria for the first time three days ago, he knew they sold store-brand, and he couldn’t deal with it. So, he dealt with the lousy potato chips they had, just because it was something he recognized.

The seventeen year-old finished brushing his teeth, chugged his mouthwash, and attempted to go back to his bed to see if he could get a good ten minutes of sleep before his therapy. By the time he closed his eyes, he heard his alarm go off, and he would have thrown it across the room if he wasn’t so tired.

Rebellion was going to be hard here.

* * *

“It felt a little cooler this morning on my way here, and I actually thought it was going to snow, so I brought my hat, my scarf, and my gloves. Turns out, it was just the breeze.”

Eric tried sitting up to make it look like he was giving a shit as his therapist was explaining the drive over to the clinic. He could barely maintain it, and she talked like she purposefully slowed her voice down. He glanced over towards the other boys that were closer to her. One of them looked just as disinterested as he was, while the other one was staring at her tits. Typical.

“But I did hear we were going to be getting more snow later on in the week, so that will be interesting. Let’s see how my car holds up to that.”

“Ms. Jackson,” an acne-faced kid said from the other side of the circle. “It snows all the time in Colorado.”

“Oh, right.” The therapist laughed, pushing some of her red curls behind her shoulder. “You guys have to remind me every now and then. Coming from Florida, well, we don’t typically get that kind of weather.”

Eric scowled at the idea of someone moving from one of the sunniest places in the states to one of its polar opposites. He couldn’t even imagine living here for all of his life. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t mind living in California, but then again, he wouldn’t need to worry about where he’d like to stay for a while. It was going to be a while before he got out of here and felt a sliver of freedom again. He sneezed, not even attempting to cover his mouth, and the woman who barely looked like she got out of college glanced back.

“Speaking of reminders, let’s all welcome Eric to the group. He’s new to Peak View, so it would be good to give him a warm welcome.”

Some of the other guys clapped, and some of them just glowered in his direction. He didn’t blame them, he would react the same way. He tried recognizing them from any of the other dipshits he saw in the halls, but they all looked fresh.

“Your enthusiasm could be more encouraging, but it is fairly early in the morning, so it’s understandable.”

Eric hated the tone of her voice and wished she would shut up, but he kept his mouth closed. He didn’t want to waste whatever energy he had.

“So, today we are going to be talking about a different topic that’s come up before, but we didn’t really go into too much detail towards.” She turned her body towards a white board that was on her side of the room, and Eric had to squint to read the small handwriting as she starting writing. “We’re going to be looking at ourselves from the perspective of somebody else.”

She grinned and faced the group once she was done writing a question on the board. It read, _Who are We to Others?_

“I would like a few of you to volunteer and come up here and write something down below the question. It can be anything you want, as long as it relates to how you feels others see you from their perspective.”

At first, Eric questioned why a professional in this field would ask this kind of question, when it was obvious how the patients would react, but he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see someone was standing from their seat.

It was the boy who was feasting his eyes earlier. He walked over to the board and picked up the marker, taking a moment to analyze the question as though he actually cared about his answer. After a few seconds, he wrote down something and then walked back to his seat.

Eric lifted his eyebrows.

_‘Weak.’_

Ms. Jackson sent a sympathetic glance over towards the boy, before coughing into her hand.

“Would anyone else like to contribute?”

A couple of other boys did the same thing. They walked over to the board, wrote down a couple of words, and returned to their seats. Eric just studied his chewed fingernails like they were more important. Ms. Jackson eventually rose from her seat and took a good look at the three words.

“Well, boys, it seems as though your opinions from the other people are more pessimistic than anything. I would like someone to explain why they feel this way. Roger, why don’t you go first?”

Roger was the boy who wrote ‘weak’ on the board. He was shorter than Eric, and his face was covered by a mop of blonde hair.

“They’d always call me at in school.” He muttered, barely audible.

“That’s horrible, nobody deserves to be called that. You should know that the labels people put on you do not define who you are as a person. You are more than what others make of you.”

Eric bit his lower lip, wanting to argue against that, but he couldn’t think of the words to say. The blonde boy smiled slightly, but nothing really changed. He knew that the boy was still troubled by how others looked at him. What was this lady trying to prove?

“Richard, why don’t you go next?”

Ms. Jackson asked the other two boys about their answers, and basically gave the same answers as she did to Roger. Eric shifted in his seat uncomfortably as her eyes drifted towards him, and he knew she would call him out. He tried losing her eye contact, but it was too late. She was swift, and he hated it.

“Eric? Why don’t you go ahead.”

Well. Might as well make it worth the effort of being here in the first place, he thought. Eric walked over to the board, and wrote two words, instead of one.

_‘Fuck off.’_

Ms. Jackson stared at the board with a paler complexion, as Eric turned away and walked out of the room.

Maybe now he could actually catch up on some of the sleep he missed.

* * *

Eric stared down towards his cheddar soup and played with it, his plastic spoon swirling it from inside the bowl.

He tasted some of it, and while it tasted a little better than the dinner from last night, he could barely stomach eating it. The sandwich wasn’t much better, since the meatballs were too soggy for his taste. He knew he’d have to get used to the new food that they served, but he’d rather fill his mouth with pizza, or KFC.

“That was a pretty sick move you made back that.”

Eric raised his head as someone sat on the other side of him.

It was somebody with blonde hair, like that Roger kid, only his hair was much greasier and it hung around his face. He was wearing an orange jacket, but it looked scratched up and withered. He narrowed an eyebrow as the other boy made himself comfortable.

“What?”

“My name’s Kenny, by the way. I was like you, I didn’t speak for shit. I just get annoyed with that lady.”

This guy certainly was talkative. Eric pressed his lips together. He took a bite of his sandwich, and managed to swallow it down without much difficulty. He remembered that this boy was also in his group therapy, but he didn’t notice him too much. It was almost like he wasn’t there.

“You just got here, didn’t ya? Well, most of the other guys here are pretty nice, so don’t worry about them or anything.”

“Why…are you talking to me?” Eric muttered, looking into the other boy’s blue eyes. There was a mischievous light to them, like he was playing a game.

“I found you interesting.  Plus, I laughed my ass off after you left the room. She was fighting to collect her words for the rest of the session.”

“Really?” Eric was interested now, but only for a brief second.

“Mhm. Good thing we only have to go those sessions twice a week, otherwise I don’t know what I would do.”

“I just hate how it’s so early in the morning.” Eric said, and Kenny grinned. There were a couple of teeth missing from the front row.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?”

“The beds are so uncomfortable.” Eric lied.

“They’re actually pretty good, if you get in ‘em real good. You have to get used to it. I know I couldn’t sleep good for the first few months I was here.”

“You’ve been here for a while?” Eric was suddenly interested.

He wondered what he could have done, and why he managed to get in here. Kenny just laughed at the response.

“We _all_ have. Even a month feels like a while here. At least our rooms have TVs.”

There was a moment of silence as Kenny opened a bag of chips. “Also, when I first got here, I didn’t talk to anyone. I was mad, but now it’s been a lot better.”

Eric was about to say something else, but something inside of him prompted him speechless.

He watched the boy in front of his eat his food, but he just stared at his sandwich while Kenny continued to talk. He spoke about the clinic, and about his time there. Eric found it too normal for someone who was in their shoes to talk about their time here like it wasn’t out of the ordinary. But he didn’t tell the other boy to shut up, instead he felt relaxed. Maybe this was something he needed, a person to calm his nerves.

“Who’s your psychiatrist?” Kenny asked, crumpling up his bag and throwing it on the table. Eric snapped out of his distraction.

“What?”

“Your psychiatrist. The person they assigned for you?”

“Oh.” Eric tried remembering what his name was, but it escaped him. “I don’t remember.”

“Wow. Only been a few days and you’re already forgetting shit.” Kenny laughed loudly as Eric flipped him off.

“It was some dude, I know, but I barely paid attention. I’ll have to look at the paperwork I got before I was dropped off.”

"Well, maybe it will be someone good.”

Eric doubted it.

* * *

When Eric got the notification later that day that he would have gotten a package, he was surprised. He walked over towards the desk on his floor, and picked it up.

The receptionist used a knife and helped Eric with the package, and when he opened it, he found two bags of cheesy poofs, and a piece of paper. He took it out and looked over it.

_‘Eric,_

_I hope everything is going okay for you. It’s been quiet without having you here, and honestly I go to your room expecting you to be there with your friends or playing a game, but it’s just empty. I miss you so much, sweetie. You’ve been all I’ve thought about since you went away._

_We know you’re going to get better, sweetie. This experience will help you. We are still looking into your situation. I know that you have good inside of you. I just wanted to let you know I still think about you._

_I love you,_

_Mom.’_

Eric grimaced at the smudged handwriting at the signature. He took the food back with him, but he crumbled the paper and threw it into the trash.

* * *

The assigned room that Eric had to go to was in the back of the clinic, three floors above the hall where he lived. He knew he had to go the specific room, and it reminded him a lot of trying to find a class the first day of school. He looked at the paper in his hands. _Room 12, Floor 3._

“Why couldn’t they have just given me someone on my own floor?” He grumbled to himself as he took the elevator up to the floor.

He walked towards the rooms in the back, and when he finally find where he was supposed to go, he stared at the door for a good few seconds. He didn’t want to do this. A part of him wondered if he could just get away with it and go back to his room, but he knew he’d be in more shit if he just skipped. Sighing, he opened the door, and flinched when he saw a girl by the front desk.

She turned towards him, almost looking right through him.

She had long black hair that reached the dip of her back, and she wore a long-sleeved pink shirt. She had a pink cap on that barely let her bangs out.

“Hello?”

“Um.” Eric paused, feeling slight irritation.

“You’re Eric, right?” She grinned. “My name’s Wendy, your psychiatrist assistant.”

As she straightened up something in the room, she moved one of the chairs. Eric didn’t know why just seeing made him feel uncomfortable, but she had this promptness that was off-putting. She seemed very different than his other therapist.

“Where’s…” Eric looked down at the paper to see his name, but Wendy beat him to it.

“He should be here any moment. He went to grab some of your records and files, so it will be any moment. Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat?”

Eric didn’t do anything at first, but with another glance by those sharp eyes, he eventually walked over to one of the chairs and sat down. The room only had a desk and a couple of other chairs, but other than that it was mostly shelves and books. This person must have really liked to read.

“How are you liking Peak View so far?” Wendy asked, pulling a strand of her hair behind her ear. Eric just shrugged.

“Not much for talking?” Wendy asked, sitting in the other seat. Eric knew it was official. She annoyed him.

“How do you think it has been?” Eric sighed.

“I’m not sure,” Wendy looked carefully at Eric, causing the other boy to get slightly flustered at her zooming up to him. “You look like you haven’t slept much.”

“The bed’s uncomfortable.” He said, simply. Wendy nodded, with a disbelieving look.

“Sure.”

“It is.” Eric argued, and Wendy chuckled.

“Well, maybe flip to your other side or something.” She guessed. Eric glared towards her, and she laughed even more at the look on his face.

“You look angry.”

Before Eric could say anything, Wendy looked at the door and walked towards it.

“He’s here!” She said, helping the gentleman come inside as he attempted to get the door. Eric watched as the man came inside the room.

Upon eye contact, Eric could see two green eyes behind frameless glasses, a head of red, curly hair, and a freckled face. He was tall, probably within six feet, and he was dressed in a button-down plaid shirt with dark jeans. The brunette shuddered as he passed on a brilliant smile. He wasn’t sure how to feel, but as this man came in, he felt more exposed than he preferred, and he shivered at the voice that followed.

“Good afternoon, Eric. My name is Mr. Broflovski, and I will be your psychiatrist.”

He reached out a hand, and Eric took it, hating how natural it felt.

“But please, feel free to call me Kyle.”


	2. would you do the honors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After going over the edge, Eric Cartman is sent to Peak View, a behavioral clinic in Colorado Springs. However, when Eric meets his psychiatrist, it may take him longer than expected to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your reviews and feedback! I have a bunch of ideas of where to go with this particular piece, so I am so excited to keep going with this! Cartman is my favorite character, so having him be the center of this piece is inspiring enough honestly.

Even when he was a kid, he didn’t get nightmares.

There’d be nights where he wouldn’t be able to sleep, sure. His ceiling was covered in painted stars and meteors, and Eric would stay awake just to count them. He was too preoccupied to sleep, falling into a repetitive stasis where he’d do nothing but stare at the ceiling. While he was young, he considered being an astronaut, finding it amazing to go somewhere so out of reach, where the unknown was limitless. He’d pretend to jump from one star to the next, like how the people on TV would jump on the moon. When he’d wake up the next morning, his mother would scold him as he’d put his head in his arms instead of finish his cereal. He didn’t really care that much if he would waste his time overthinking. Eventually, he came home from school one day and realized that his room was painted in an entirely different color. It was purple instead of navy blue, and the ceiling was plain. There were no more stars, no more excuses to stay awake at night. At first he was upset, but then he realized maybe being an astronaut was lame. Maybe he could be something where he could envision himself.

It was almost three in the morning, and Eric couldn’t breathe.

 It took less than a second for the blankets to the fall to the floor. Eric sat up and tried taking in deep breaths as he tripped towards the bathroom. He didn’t know what was happening, except his skin felt like it was melting off his bones. He flipped the lights on as he splashed water over his face. He took some of the water coming out of the faucet to his mouth. Cringing at the taste, he took what he could get, feeling slightly better as the cold water ran down his throat. He started the shower, thankful that these rooms had their own walk-in showers. He ran it on the lowest temperature, drinking more water and staring at his sleep-deprived face. How many times had he woken up like this in the past week? It had to have been at least five times.

Eric hissed at the contact of water to his skin as he stripped out of his pajamas and stood under the showerhead. That burning sensation slowly stated to fade, even though his hands still felt hot. He stared down at his palms, pushing them above his head as he typically did when he showered. Even the water couldn’t get rid of the weird feeling. Eric ran one of his hands down his face, pushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he reached for the cheap-ass shampoo they kept in one of those tiny containers. He lathered his head as he tried recollecting himself. He would sleep fine back at home, but this wasn’t anything like South Park, and he’d be damned if he tried to associate it as such. At first, he felt like it was right to avoid sleeping, to see what they’d say, but now even trying to sleep was harder than it had ever been. Eric groaned as the water ran colder, hitting his shoulders like icy picks.

He finished washing his hair, and he glanced back towards his hands, to see them fully red. His eyes widened as blood dripped from his fingertips, plopping to the floor of the tub. He turned off the shower and grabbed a towel, rubbing his hands aggressively. He didn’t feel like he cut himself, so why was there so much blood? He threw the towel on the floor, baffled as his hands weren’t scratched, and not even stained. Turning his attention towards the towel, there wasn’t a dark pigment on the material.

“What the fuck?” Eric whispered, turning his hands to see nothing but white.

He closed his eyes and whimpered, bringing himself back to the sink and splashing water on his face. He lifted his face, those bags more noticeable than a few days ago, but he said nothing as he made his way back to the bed. He was going to chop his hands off the next time he saw red anywhere on his skin, he knew it. He turned on his side, not bothering to pick up the blanket, even though he was shivering. Instead, he reached on the other side of the mattress and wrapped his arms around Clyde Frog. He squeezed the stuff animal as he closed his eyes again.

* * *

 

Wendy glanced down at her bitten nails as she leaned against the wall. It was almost noon, and she looked out of the corner of her eyes to look at the clock. Five till twelve. Sighing, she flipped her hair over her shoulder as she pulled out her phone. She exchanged numbers with Eric on the basis regarding his appointments a couple days ago, but she didn’t think she’d have to message him this soon.

 _'Where are you?’_ She started typing out, but she stopped as she heard loud footsteps across the hall. She saw Eric rushing through the hall, almost bumping into a couple of nurses in the process. She closed her flip phone before sending anything and placed it back in her pocket.

Eric came to her and placed his hands on his hips, catching his breath.

“You know, you’d better be lucky Mr. Broflovski is a patient doctor. If you were my patient, I would have mentioned it to somebody by now.”

“Whatever.” Eric sighed, as he regained himself. “If you were my psychiatrist, I would have walked out as soon as I saw you.”

“Excuse me?” Wendy felt herself getting warmer, her hands balling up in frustration.

 “Besides, psychiatrists are barely even doctors. They look at you, figure something’s wrong with you, come up with some random medication, and that’s it.” Eric almost found it fun at how the noirette was getting irritated at the things he’d say. It was almost as fun as picking on some of his friends back home.

“You’re so full of it!” Wendy growled. “You do realize you’re talking to someone who’s studying to be in that field?”

“All the most reason to piss on it.” Eric smirked. He studied what the assistant was wearing. She had on a long-sleeve lilac top with dark jeans and black converse. She had on this pink beret that Eric would have found annoying on any other girl who would have worn it, but she pulled it off decently. Her long black hair was running down to the midpoint of her back, straight but curly at the tips. She wasn’t ugly, but Eric wasn’t going to say she was pretty, either.

“If you’re done looking anywhere but my eyes, you can go ahead and be fashionably late to your appointment. I’m sure he’d love to hear whatever excuses you have.” Wendy took her phone back out and started walking away to what Eric assumed was get something for Kyle.

“You know, if I were you, I would watch my attitude. Your future patients may not a rude girl telling them what to do.” Eric barely caught the fire in Wendy’s glare that came afterwards as he made his way into Mr. Broflovski’s office.

As soon as he walked in, he felt his skin become clammy. He would always have this initial mixture of uncertainty and comfort when he’d walk into this room, and he wasn’t sure if it was just the atmosphere, or the way he felt when the ginger sitting in his desk would turn and smile lightly towards him. There was no anger, no impatience, just a nice man that Eric only knew for a couple days.

He hated how he felt this way when he barely knew the psychiatrist. He hated feeling like he was ready to open himself up. He hated the idea of revealing himself to those emerald eyes, and he hated the possibility that he could relate to what he had gone through.

“Eric, good afternoon. I was wondering when you’d get here. I hope you slept alr-“ Kyle stopped talking as he walked over towards the brunette and studied his face. Eric flushed slightly, not able to keep eye contact.

“Mm, maybe we can get to that. Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat?”

Eric swore he smell a light tinge of cologne, pine trees and ridges as Kyle walked back. He went ahead and sat in the brown chair across from Kyle’s desk, the really comfy one that Eric wished he could take and replace the chair in his own room. It was big enough to where he sat in it perfectly, his thighs even having a little leg room.

“I went ahead and got you some coffee, it’s a little cooler but if Wendy comes back in a little bit, she can get you another one if you’d like.”

Eric picked it up from his right side, where the cup was on the table. He knew he’d only drink it if was black, and after tasting it and realizing it was, he looked up with a surprised glance.

“You mentioned how you liked your coffee when we first met.” Kyle smiled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he opened a folder.

“Why would you remember that?” Eric muttered. Kyle chuckled in response.

“Well, partially because you’re one of the only other people I know that drinks coffee the same way I do.” Kyle raised the cup to his side. “Unfortunately, considering I don’t drink coffee that much, I stick with good ol’ tea.”

“To keep up your aesthetic?” Eric hated how it sound more challenging rather than witty, but Kyle raised an eyebrow.

“ _Aesthetic_?”

“I mean, you got a million books, your room looks too organized, and your glasses don’t even have frames.” Eric smirked. It was infinitely more entertaining to counter what Kyle had to say rather than Wendy, for some reason.

“Well, Mr. Cartman, that is mostly because I am diabetic.” Kyle tasted some of his drink, leaning back in his chair. “Green tea and water are all I really need.You’ve had green tea before at one point, haven’t you?”

“Tea is gross.” Eric grimaced at the memory of when his mom gave him iced tea years ago and how he would have rather had Dr. Pepper.

“Well, at least we have coffee to love equally.” Kyle grinned. “Now, before I continue to let you rant about my ‘aesthetic’,” he attributed air quotes as he said this, “l wanted to ask you how you slept last night.”

“Why?” Eric glanced at his hands, imagining the glow of red blood over his twitching fingers.

“Well, considering you look more drowsy than our first visit, I figured you’d didn’t have a good time sleeping last night. There are noticeable bags under your eyes.”

Eric didn’t say anything, his eyes on his hands and on the floor. He appreciated how Kyle didn’t pressure him into talking. The last time that the two of them got together, it was mostly silent, because Eric didn’t want to say anything. How could he say anything? Even though he felt as though Kyle was friendlier, he still wanted to leave this place without it getting to him.

“Nightmares.” Eric replied. It was technically a lie, since Eric hadn’t had too many nightmares since he arrived at Peak View, but the idea of his hands being covered in blood wouldn’t leave his mind. He squeezed his eyes at the thought. Kyle sent a sympathetic look towards him.

“I’m sorry to hear about that, Eric. You want to talk about it?”

Not really. Eric thought to himself, but he looked up to see there was a genuine look of sadness on Kyle’s face. He didn’t remember the last time he saw someone with a look like that.

“They’re just random, I guess.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck. “I barely remember anything from them.”

“Well, that’s alright. We don’t have to go into detail if you don’t want to.” Kyle wrote something down on a piece of paper next to him. “I just don’t want you to go insomniac on me.”

“I’m not insomniac.” Eric countered, and Kyle nodded.

“Well, if you continue to have issues with sleeping, I can help you with that as well, give you some other medication to whatever you are taking right now.”

Wendy knocked on the door, and as Kyle acknowledged for her to come in, Eric saw in her hand a bag of something. Then, he realized what they were as Kyle took the package out from the bag.

“Thank you, Wendy. That’s all I need for now, so go ahead and get a bite to eat.”

“Thank you, sir.” Wendy left the room, and Kyle took a couple other things out of the bags. There were bowls, and some snacks.

“You like Cheesy Poofs, don’t you?” Kyle opened the bag of bowls and set one out with the bag of chips next to it. “Go ahead and help yourself.”

“Seriously?” Eric stood up from the chair and poured some chips into one of the plastic bowls. He then sat back down as Kyle opened a container of honey-roasted peanuts.

“Well, Liane did tell me these were your favorite, and I was getting a little hungry myself.”

Eric’s eyes widened at the revelation that Kyle interacted with his mother, and he was speaking about it so nonchalantly. There was now this overwhelming anger that the brunette couldn’t try to hide.

“You talked to my mom?”

“Well, yes. She’s a very sweet lady.” Kyle popped a nut into his mouth.

“Why did you talk to her?” Eric hissed, standing up. Kyle narrowed an eyebrow at this response, but Eric didn’t care.

“Eric,” Kyle raised a hand. “I talked to her to get more information about yo-"

“I don’t _care_!” The boy bellowed. “I didn’t even realize she could get in touch with the people here!”

“Of course she can, but Eric, please calm down.”

“She needs to quit trying to check up on me! I don’t want her to talk to me, and certainly not some random ass stranger that’s trying to coax me with this shit!” Eric pushed the bowl of cheesy poofs out of the way as he made his way towards the door. “Tell her I said fuck off!”

“Eric, please.” Kyle tried communicating something, but Eric didn’t get to listen as he made his way out of the room. Wendy noticed this from the end of the hall and tried to track Eric down.

“Eric, wait!”

But Eric was already gone, leaving a trail of red as he went.

* * *

The rest of the day went by slowly as Eric preoccupied himself with one of his coloring books.

He loved coloring since he was a kid, and it relieved his stress whenever he used his coloring pencils to sketch anything. He wasn’t trying to think about how out of line he was earlier, and he even admitted to himself that even the mention of her shouldn’t be something to make him go off. He shaded the inside of Iron Man’s helmet, digging his red pencil in further as he thought of her obnoxious smile. The shade of red would have matched her favorite cherry lipstick, and Eric almost choked at that. Why would Kyle need to talk to his own mother, anyway? Wasn’t that against the whole therapy thing? But he thought about it, and stopped coloring as he sat back in his bed. He imagined what would happen if he told Kyle everything. If he was intimate with him. The idea was barely processed, and Eric could already see his psychiatrist blabbing it to his mother. Liane would be disappointed, but Eric wanted to say he didn’t care. That woman might as well as be dead to him. Clutching his pencil in his grip he sighed, looking towards the window and seeing specks of snow against the glass. It was already almost December, which meant it was almost Christmas. The snow was only going to get heavier from this point.

He prayed that Ms. Jackson’s car would get stuck.

* * *

“This pizza is really soggy. Do you want my slice?”

Eric glanced towards Kenny’s tray to see that he still had a slice and a half of pepperoni pizza left, and an orange. He didn’t answer, but he did take the full slice. The blonde boy picked his orange and started peeling off the skin, flicking little pieces to Eric’s tray just to make him irritated. Kenny enjoyed picking his buttons.

“All of the food here sucks.” Eric muttered, and Kenny flashed a toothy grin.

“Not all of it. Taco Tuesdays aren’t too bad. They actually have edible tamales.”

“Tamales aren’t tacos,” Eric commented, but he figured it was the Mexican-theme so they could throw anything at it. Kenny shrugged as he took a bite of his orange.

“They’re still fucking good.”

“What’s the point of getting extra food if you’re not even going to touch half of it?” Eric said, and Kenny looked off to the side.

“I’m pretty flimsy. I really need to try to eat more, but every time I get more food, I can barely eat any of it.”

“You’re just weird.” Eric finished his pizza, and it was quiet for a couple of minutes before Kenny kept looking off to the horizon. Eric lifted an eyebrow.

“What are you looking at?”

“Dude, that girl is totally checking you out from the other side of the cafeteria.” Kenny pointed with his eyes, and Eric turned to look over his shoulder, feeling his heart plummet as he met the eye contact of Wendy.

She was eating some kind of salad that looked gross to Eric but he wasn’t surprised that she was eating it. She didn’t turn away, and she looked like she was starting to collect her stuff.

“Do you know her?”

“She’s the assistant to my psychiatrist.” Eric mumbled, looking down as he scooped some pinto beans with his spoon. Kenny instantly looked interested, and he leaned in.

“She’s so cute! If I didn’t have someone I was interested in, I’d totally talk to her.”

“Wait you-“ Eric was about to question this, but before he did anything, he felt the presence of someone next to them. They turned to find Wendy standing right next to Eric, her hands on her hips and her purse on her shoulder.

“Hello, Eric. Is it possible I can talk to you in private?”

“Sure, don’t let me get between you two.” Kenny started getting up, taking his tray with him. He winked towards Eric, who just shuddered at the idea of anything happening between the two of them. He couldn’t even imagine with someone like her.

“Thanks, Ken.” Wendy sat down at the table from where Kenny was just at, and now Eric scoffed at her.

“Wait, so you know him, too?”

“I’ve been helping Mr. Broflovski out since before Kenny came to this place. I know everybody.”

“What do you want? I’m trying to eat here.”

Wendy took a deep breath, before leaning in slightly. Eric couldn’t take his eyes away from the stern look on her face, like she must have been contemplating how to say this

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened a couple of days ago.”

“Oh, God.” Eric grunted, his blue eyes almost rolling to the back of his head.

“I don’t want to talk about as much as you do, but I just feel as though you should know this before anything bad happens when there shouldn’t have been mindless drama in the first place. Please just hear me out, you don’t have to listen to me any more afterwards if you don’t want to.”

Eric didn’t say anything. He found it pathetic how she was basically begging him to reconsider what happened, but he looked at her with an expression that showed he was willing to listen, so she smiled lightly.

“I want you to know that since you’ve been talking to him, he’s been acting…a lot differently. He seems to be in a happier mood. Trust me, I’ve been helping him out I starting becoming an assistant, and he is one of the nicest people I have ever worked with. He has changed so many lives. But it’s different with you. He typically has the same passion towards all of his patients, but when I see him interact with you, or at least during that first day, there was something in him that was not like the other times.”

“What do you mean?” Eric asked, and Wendy looked down at the table.

“I’m not really sure. He just seems to really passionate about you. I can see it when he talks about you.”

Immediately Eric became wary. “What does he say about me?”

“Nothing related to your case, if that was what you were wondering. Just, about you as a person. He really likes you, Eric.”

Eric didn’t say anything at first, wondering what his psychiatrist saw in him. It wasn’t like he was particularly interesting, or at least, he didn’t think he. He was just another patient, so why…

“Just think about what I told you. If you really want to keep dragging this out, go ahead. But something tells me Mr. Broflovski isn’t going to let you drop him, so just…think about it, okay?”

Wendy stood back up and left, leaving Eric alone by himself and the crusts of his pizza he didn’t eat.

* * *

Eric tried going to bed for the third time that night.

He turned from his right side of the left, feeling himself become sweaty under the blanket. Clyde Frog was somehow on the floor, and the air conditioning was barely working. Eric groaned as he remembered what his last dream, which was a never-ending hallway, covered in black and brick.

Walking through the hall, he tried to find a door to escape. There were only doors locked, covered with bold numbers. He remembered the same doors from his old high school, and he kept walking to find the doors repeating themselves. He was starting to panic. He tried to break through one of the doors, but they didn’t even sway as he’d push against them. Frustration starting to peak, Eric ran as fast as he could towards the end of the hall, a white light that didn’t give way to have a means of ending. He didn’t care if ended, he just wanted proof that he was in the moment. He tried yelling, not hearing his voice. So, he just ran and ran. He stopped once he saw a shadow in that white light, a smaller figure. It turned is head and Eric woke up, screaming.

He stayed awake afterwards for a while, shaking. He tried going back to sleep for the third time that time, but he didn’t have such luck.

* * *

Eric showed up an hour early, sitting in that brown chair.

He was surprised that the room was unlocked, but he didn’t mind since that was what he was hoping for. He felt himself drift like he wanted to sleep, but he would force himself up as soon as he felt his eyes close. He kept this eyes on the door. Didn’t that man come early at all? He glanced around the room, at the white walls, the bookshelves. He knew that Kyle liked to read, but he recognized some of the titles from the spines of the novels. They were mostly poetic works, Shakespeare and Sidney the most prominent.

So he likes poetry.

Strangely, it was fitting to associate the man with that genre. Eric didn’t hate Shakespeare while he was in high school, but he did find the diction annoying. He wondered what Kyle’s favorite play was. He wondered if it was Romeo and Juliet, or it was something obscure.

He heard the door open, and Eric rolled his head slowly towards it. Kyle was dressed more formally than before - which Eric had to guess at twice because how could he be even more formal – and now he was wearing this suit. It was a salmon-striped shirt, covered with a grey jacket and trousers. Eric couldn’t even deny that Kyle was attractive in that outfit, but he refused to linger on it.

“You’re here early, Eric.” He almost sounded breathless.

“I know.” Eric sighed, looking away for a couple of minutes as Kyle set his stuff down. The two of them shared in a comfortable silence until Eric couldn’t do anything else.

“I just wanted to say I was sorry.”

Eric saw the look of understanding on Kyle’s face, but he knew that it was just a barrier. He wondered if Kyle could see how hard it was for Eric to apologize to him, let alone anyone.

“All is forgiven.” Kyle smiled. “I acted more on the behalf of what was important for your case rather than how you felt, so from now on, I will ask about your comfort before making a decision.”

Eric tried to mumble a word of thanks, but his tongue was stuck on the roof of his mouth. The mixture of luxurious and simplicity from Kyle’s voice, he could never take for granted. It was easy to see how people could trust him so easily. He wondered how long it would be before he completely fell into that trust. He didn’t think it would be too long.

“Just to let you know, I only want to help you, Eric. But I also want you to be able to tell me whatever comes to your mind without feeling like you shouldn’t have to tell me. Does that makes sense?”

“Yes.” Eric replied.

“You are my patient, but I would also like to be your friend.”

“Okay.” Eric sighed, closing his eyes for a couple of minutes. He took a deep breath.

Kyle leaned forward, fixing his eyes on Eric’s gaze.

“I want you to understand that your illnesses are valid. You are valid, Eric. I will support you in any way you want me to.”

Eric continued to stare towards the other man – why was he doing this for him?

“Bipolar symptoms are going to be with you for the rest of your life, but there are ways we can help you, ways that I can help you, and ways you will realize that you can help for yourself. Your family cares about you, your friends care about you, I care about you.”

_You do?_

“However long you need me to be there for you, I will be there. All you need to do if I get over line is tell me, okay, Eric?”

Eric looked in those eyes, those eyes full of color and life. He nodded slowly.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we're starting to get more into the flesh of it. Again, I appreciate all feedback and comments. Please let me know what you think so far! Thanks for reading!


	3. life is a game

Peak View’s patients typically related their first month in residency to being the worst.

They would say that it was hard being accustomed to the new atmosphere, the wild eyes watching their backs like they had too many secrets to hide. Rumors passed easily, a shudder of gossip slipping through ears faster than in school. Eric found this to be the case when he arrived, taking as much as a seat within the cafeteria and noticing all of their cold, hard faces. He was only living there for about three weeks before he heard the things said about him, even from back with the encounter in group therapy. He didn’t care about the opinions from anyone else but himself, and possibly the strange man who managed to tangle himself in the boy’s life, uncalled for. Sharp eyes, an impenetrable wit, all traits that Eric thought only he could carry.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You seem to be hesitant this morning, Eric.” That voice was snapping him back to their reality, where he was sitting in that same damn chair, in the same damn room bordered by shelves of books. Kyle was dressed in more casual attire, a v-neck shirt with those pockets that Eric absolutely couldn’t stand but for some reason found it alluring on him, and a striped blazer. However, instead of trousers, there were jeans on the man. _Jeans_.

“Hesitant?” The word was almost shy, and he hated the lingering of his tone.

“Well, you’ve been there for almost twenty minutes and you’ve done nothing but stare off into space. But that’s alright, being deep in thought is never a bad thing. I mean, that’s mostly true, anyways.” Kyle took a sip of his tea. He sighed as he broke away from the edge of his cup. “Mostly true in how it’s _you_ we’re talking about.”

“Got a lot on my mind.” Eric pointed out. He realized that was an open prompt for continual discussion, but a part of him wanted to have the upper hand. He felt as though it was his right to leave the older man speechless.

“Nothing shameful about that. I can tell you are an expansive thinker.” Kyle replied. Eric raised an eyebrow, not sure how to take that. He never thought about the kind of interpreter he was.

“What does that even mean?”

“You like to see the bigger picture. You’re a visionary, Eric.”

“I guess.” Eric sighed, leaning back into his seat. His focus grabbed a hold of the picture hanging on the side of the wall, a dog riding a tricycle with a birthday hat on, vivid colors playing in the back. He found it almost ironic, a spontaneous image found in such a structured environment.

“Not a lot of people think that way, it’s almost incredible, really.” Kyle said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Eric caught the affirmative look in those eyes, green, lush with promise. He gulped.

“Visionary people are the ones who change the norm. They create their own standards for the way things should be done. They are the inventors.” Kyle explained, Eric nodding to the sound of his voice, not too interested in the praise. He was too distracted by this man, this doctor that held no other degree to his well-being than his mentality, which was already loose and broken.

He glanced towards the palms of his hands.

Seeing the prints of red, he didn’t squirm as he once did, he treated it like it was something of a birthmark. He twisted his right hand to see nothing drip, it only continued to stick. Imagining those same hands to be like crafters of God, stacking up buildings and designing roads, laying out the blueprint of any kind of a plan. Perhaps, when he left this place, this could be his calling: to change. Instead, he lowered his hands, looking towards Kyle and unsure how to feel about those sturdy eyes, judgmental with the best of interest. Or, at least, for now it would be best of interest. Eric wondered if Kyle could see the blood, if he knew this entire time and was waiting for him to confess. Confess, dammit, confess to everything you’ve ever done, and will do! Kyle was waiting to scream that, Eric was sure, so just go ahead and scream it, scream at me –

“Eric?” Kyle questioned, and Eric simply shook his head. The tan of his hands came back into the light, and he tore away his gaze.

“Why do you think I am that way? You’ve only known me for a few weeks, and you’re already telling me I could this, or that. I’m asking why.”

Kyle didn’t say anything at first, the ticks of the clock louder than anything Eric had ever heard. He was worried if his ears would start bleeding, too. He could feel the itch just from the thought.

The psychiatrist stood up from his desk and started walking towards the side of the room. He flipped through a few books, until one caught his attention. Sliding it out of its position, he walked over towards Eric and passed it to him.

“I want to go ahead and let you borrow this novel. It’s one of my favorite books, and I feel like you would really appreciate it, also.”

Eric looked at the title of the book and scrunched his face. _‘The Catcher in the Rye.’_

“Isn’t this some book they make you read in high school?” Eric flipped the book over and studied the contents of the back cover, the orange and cream illustrations melding together.

“Several people were able to identify with this novel, and it was very controversial when it was published. However, I feel like there are people who need to read it just because of the main protagonist. I feel like you would relate to him, Eric.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Eric didn’t enjoy reading. He found it bland and pointless, and he would rather have spent his time playing games or doing something outside. When he was younger, his grades would continually slip with English because he just did not like reading the material.

“I’m not sure. That’s the fun of being curious, and finding out. Just give it a chance.”

Eric glanced at and noticed Kyle was much closer, the closest he had been since one of their earlier interactions. Dimples and olive skin melded, aesthetically pleasure, scarlet curls and smooth skin.

Eric bit down on the side of his mouth and nodded, pretending to care.

“Now, why don’t we get a little progress before the end of the session, hm?”

Kyle grinned, and Eric nodded, doing just about anything to continue the illusion of blind happiness.

* * *

Words carried on about Kenny McCormick were even worse, as Eric remembered. He thought of this as he and the blonde boy himself carried their way outside for the first time in a couple of days, joining some random lady for an afternoon yoga session. It was never in Eric’s mind to volunteer, but Kenny insisted that he needed the break and to feel the Colorado air move through his bones again, or something cheesy like that.

“I’m surprised we haven’t taken advantage of this sooner.” Kenny said, laying his mat down. Eric looked at him, humored, as he did the same thing.

“We’ll probably be the only two guys here.” Eric said, and Kenny shrugged.

“All the better for me.”

“Jesus.” Eric chuckled. They stretched out their arms and legs as other people made their way for the class. There was some brunette lady who was obviously the instructor for the course, and Kenny gave off a grin in her direction.

“I’m not really sure if your special someone would appreciate you flirting with some random chick.” Eric replied, as she led them into a Downward Dog. He leaned down and attempted touching his own mat, staring at his dangling stomach.

“Probably not, he can get quite possessive.” Kenny replied. Eric thought he misheard that.

“…what?”

“My boyfriend gets quite possessive. If he knew I was making eyes towards Michelle, he’d probably blow a fuse.”

Eric stood back up, straightening his back. “I didn’t realize you were into guys, Kenny.”

“Well, I’m technically into guys and girls, but I’m dating a guy right now.” They situated themselves into the Upward Dog. Kenny was able to stretch his legs almost perfectly behind him, and Eric struggled getting into position. “I haven’t really seen him for a while, though.”

“This place not let you see visitors often?” Eric asked, and Kenny didn’t say anything for a minute or so. There was a look of deep concentration on his face, as they shifted back into sitting positions.

“I wouldn’t say that. It has just been a little weird since I came here. We talked less and less, and even though we’re still dating, I just feel like me being here is affecting him. I wouldn’t blame him.”

Eric didn’t say anything in response. He found it hard to acknowledge the emotions of others, especially when it was from someone whose voice, whose mannerisms were still so foreign to him. This boy who had randomly spoken to him, who showed him an instance of kindness.

A lot like _him_.

“But his best trait is his loyalty. He’s waiting for me back at home, and when I get out of here…”

Kenny sighed. He glanced towards the muddled sky as Eric followed suit, glancing uncomfortably at the boy’s shaking hands. He watched as Kenny reached into the pocket of his shorts, pulling out a piece of silver that gleamed.

“Shit.”

“I know,” Kenny replied, twisting the ring between his index finger and his thumb. “I meant to give it to him before I left but things got in the way and I may not see him for a long time.”

Eric blinked, a sudden restlessness in his eyes. The subtlety of Kenny’s words dangled in front of him, like a rope that Eric wanted to grasp and tug, pull so hard until the seams fell out and it snapped.

 “Alright, time to raise up.” The instructor Michelle called, motioning her body upwards and bringing her hands to her sides. Kenny followed, putting the ring back into his pocket as he leaned to the side, and as Eric mimicked. 

Eric raised his hands towards the sky, but kept his eyes on the other boy, who didn’t look back towards him, but to the horizon, in its apathetic glory.

* * *

Ms. Jackson continually annoyed Eric more since their first encounter.

He didn’t need much to know this. Her eyes would flash across the circle, attempting to meet his gaze but failing almost every time, and averting back to the other goonies there. Eric wished she would quit looking at him, judging the ground that he walked on. It was hard enough to get through these sessions without falling asleep, now he had to invest himself in pretending to give a shit. He never wanted to give her the satisfaction that she was better than him, and it was something Eric would say he was good at.

Proving his superiority.

“In Florida, we would never have to wear this many layers of clothes. Keep that in mind if any of you want to get away for a break, or for some sun.”

Eric kept the idea of her burning in the Floridian heat in his mind, and he smirked to himself.

“There’s also Disney.” Roger recalled, and Ms. Jackson smiled, clasping her hands.

“Of course! Just make sure you plan ahead to avoid the tourist traps.”

Eric shuffled himself in his seat, glancing towards the clock. The two minutes that remained ticked so slowly, he was starting chew the inside of his mouth in the anticipation of running through that door.

“Alright everyone, before we head out, I wanted to remind everyone that Christmas is only in a couple of weeks. I think that for this weekend, just think about all of the things that you are thankful for, and when we meet again next week, we can talk about openly as a discussion. I think it would help us before the holidays to be able to discuss our favorite things about Christmas.”

The therapist grinned, scanning the room. “You’re free to go.”

Eric was the first to go, making his way towards the door in almost a frenzy. He could feel the freedom from the hour of sitting on what seemed like nails.

“Ah, Eric, would you mind staying for a couple of minutes, please?”

Eric shut his eyes and internally groaned as the other boys made their way outside of the room. Kenny flashed him a small grin, and Eric never wanted to flip the blonde off more. He turned and slowly walked back towards Ms. Jackson.

She pulled some of her hair away from her shoulders and put her hands behind her back. He hated the grin that she wore, her lips thins as the sides of her mouth made indents into her skin. It was obvious she had plastic surgery, just from her face alone. Eric didn’t want to think about the possibility of anywhere else.

“I just wanted to talk to you since I feel like the both of us got off on the wrong start. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold walls against me, Eric.”

Her minty voice sounded like chalk in his ears.

“Why would you think that?” He asked, avoiding her gaze as he looked towards the floor.

“I know that being in this situation is hard for you. If I were seventeen years old in rehab, I would probably feel the same as you.”

Eric felt himself ball his hands into fists, but loosened himself as soon as he suspected.

“I just want you to know that if you ever want someone to talk to, for anything, I will be here. Being openly communicative to someone can help you more than you think.”

There was a brief silence. Eric flitted his eyes back towards her gaze, and could see through her eyes that dismissive undertone. He felt his insides knot up at the plastic emotions, her silicon eyes trying to break him apart.

“Which is why I think it would be of your best interest to spend more time with me with one-on-one sessions, so you and I can get down to these rampant emotions you feel.”

The word was thrust into the air like a disease, and Eric didn’t dare loosen himself.

He couldn’t stop seeing a blur of reds and oranges, and a part of him just didn’t know what he was going to do next.

“If you want to help me, you’ll stop trying to get to me.” Eric said, stepping in closer. “I don’t need anyone’s help, especially from the likes of an actress therapist who doesn’t know one thing about me. So _stop_ trying.”

Eric turned away, trying to count to ten. He needed to get away, back to his room, where he could be with his coloring book, his Clyde Frog. He needed to stop being so angry, to calm down and not think about her.

Get out, now.

Get the hell out before you do something you’ll regret.

“Eric, please wait-“

Ms. Jackson closed the distance and put a hand on his shoulder, before Eric turned around and pushed the arm off, gripping onto her wrist. She shook, her lips trembling and her eyes scattered. Eric could see it, the denial and the fright in trapped in those colors of blue and green, swirling.

God, it was just like her.

He hated how much it was like her.

“If you don’t leave me alone,” Eric whispered, “I may just kill you.”

Ms. Jackson yanked the arm away and froze, that same petrified look. Eric said nothing else as he walked out of the room, remembering his bloodied hand on her wrist, red mixing with ivory.

* * *

_“What are you doing, Eric?”_

_The boy did not register his friend calling for him, walking in his front yard and searching, He carried a microscope in his right hand, and he crouched in the dirt as he found what he was looking for: the biggest anthill. The eight year-old pushed the sweat out of his eyes as he positioned his weapon, finding a big ant. His friend came towards him crouched besides him._

_“Eric?”_

_“Sh.” The boy hissed as he started spot on the back of the ant started shrinking as the tiny flicker of smoke rose. His friend blinked incredulously towards him._

_“Why are you doing that? You’re hurting him!” He leaned forward and tried to stop Eric, but the bigger boy pushed him as he leaned further in._

_“Butters, if you’re going to keep being a pussy, then go home.”_

_“But I don’t want to go home. My mom is still mad at me and if she sees me…”_

_Butters grimaced as the deed was done, the ant lying dead on the ground. Eric was already looking for another victim, indifferent of his victory._

_“Wasn’t like that fella was asking for it.” Butters muttered, and Eric shrugged._

_“I’m bored.”_

_“Then let’s go play a game or something!”_

_Eric didn’t do anything at first, his mind balancing the two options, before he stood up and brushed off his pants. “Sure.”_

_Butters and Eric walked to Eric’s front door, where the two of them walked in and kicked their shoes off. Butters looked into the living room and alleyway of the kitchen to find it eerily empty, while Eric slipped out of his coat and reached for his cat._

_“Go ahead and set it up.” Eric said, and Butters nodded._

_“S-sure, Eric. Where’s your mom at anywho?”_

_“Working.” Eric said, petting as he sat on the couch. Butters said nothing else as it didn’t prompt for further discussion. The two boys played Need for Speed, Eric beating Butters in every match because he was the only one who could play with the police car. Butters glanced towards the clock, seeing the time and shuddering._

_“Do you think I could spend the night?”_

_“I guess.” Eric replied, keeping his eyes on the TV. Butters smiled towards him as Eric won, once again._

_“Thanks, Eric.”_

* * *

Eric walked into Kyle’s office to see that Wendy was sitting at the redhead’s normal desk, eating a large salad from a plastic bowl. He glanced around to see if was just her, and she met his gaze as she put a strawberry in her mouth.

“You’re early.”

“You’re not Kyle.” Eric countered, and Wendy shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

Eric narrowed his eyes as she made his way to the other chair. He didn’t keep his eyes away from whatever she was eating, the smell of ranch dressing filling the room. He only liked ranch if it was with fried chicken, not what he saw as rabbit food.

“Where is he?” He asked, and Wendy took a napkin and cleaned off her mouth.

“He’s in his office at the other place he works at. Peak View isn’t the only place he helps with.”

“Oh.” Eric said, knowing that already but not mentioning it. His nose lifted as she took another bite of her lunch.

“How can you eat that?”

“It’s delicious.” Wendy commented, smirking towards him. “You should try some.”

“I think I’ll pass. If it’s anywhere near you, I’ll probably catch something.”

“Right.” Wendy rolled her eyes.

Nothing was said between the two of them as Wendy flipped from eating her salad to writing something for what Eric was assuming was schoolwork. He watched her, the concentrated look in her eyes one that he had not seen from her before. It was almost intense, powerful enough for the boy to tap his foot and wish for a command. He said nothing, as she noticed his staring and looked back. They fought for the contact, and Wendy tilted her head.

“Hey, are you feeling alright?”

Eric opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and nodded as his spit was caught in his throat.

“I think so.”

* * *

_Liane pressed the tube of lipstick to her bottom lip, covering the light pink skin with red radiance._

_“Your friend Leopold has been spending a lot more time here than before.” She commented as she slid into her black dress. Eric was sitting at the kitchen table, eating his dinner and trying not to stare as she got ready._

_“His name is Butters.” He said offhandedly, bringing his fork of spaghetti into his mouth. She glanced towards him and smiled._

_“That’s right, sweetie.”_

_She pulled up the zipper and glanced at the mirror in the kitchen, twisting her head side to side as she put her earrings in._

_“Do you think that he doesn’t get along with his mom and dad?”_

_Eric didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what happened between the boy and his parents, but he didn’t care enough to ask. Mr. Kitty looked up at the stove, eyeing the pasta and scratching the floor._

_“Now, now, kitty, kitty. That isn’t for you.” Liane giggled, picking up the cat. She put the cat in the living room before grabbing her purse and keys. Eric picked up his fork and stabbed the meatballs that were on the side of the plate, entertained at how they split into halves._

_Liane walked back into the kitchen and smiled, ruffling Eric’s hair as she kissed his head._

_“I won’t be gone long.” She said as she walked away and made her way towards the door. Eric watched as the cat jumped off the couch and followed Liane, in an attempt to go with her._

_“No, you need to stay here and keep Eric company.” She said, not paying attention as the cat started whining. She glanced towards Eric, her blue eyes to his back._

_“I love you, sweetie.”_

_Eric said nothing as the door closed, he only threw the plate into the dishwasher and made his way upstairs._

* * *

He had stared up at the ceiling for a good hour before he realized he couldn’t sleep.

The boy sat up, tired but not enough to doze. He flipped the light on and found his slippers, yawning as he glanced towards the drawer next to his bed. The book that Kyle had given him was still there, after a week and half of not being touched, not being read. Eric groaned to himself as he caved, opening the drawer and pulling the novel out. He let his fingers linger on the paperback material before he flipped to the first page. He didn’t understand why Kyle wanted him to read this so badly, and as Eric continued reading through the first chapter, he couldn’t help but find it boring.

“What was I expecting?” He asked himself, closing the book after reading the chapter.

He was about to slide the book back into the drawer before he heard something outside of his room. He glanced at the door, where a shadow passed by, and a hustling noise was heard on the other side. Eric raised himself slowly out of bed and tried to listen through the crack of his door, but there was nothing but silence. Grabbing the flashlight out of another drawer, he made his way outside of the door, into the black hallway.

He hesitated walking. There was nothing but darkness, and the soft still of the hospital machines. He closed his bedroom door before he turned the light on, making his way in the direction that the shadow went.

Coming across rooms that were familiar to him, Eric walked slowly through his floor. It had been a while since the boy felt a sense of adrenaline, and a tinge of fear. He turned the corner and found a staircase that led downstairs, so he followed it.

Without expecting it, Eric spotted the noises to slowly become more obvious as he went down a level. He felt the shadow near him. It was close, Eric knew.

Then, Eric raised his light to see that the hallway looked never-ending. His eyes widened, his dream from weeks ago flooding back into his mind. He started walking towards the end of the hall, past closed doors, only hearing his slippers rub against the tile of the floor. The shadow was playing at the end, and Eric wanted to catch up with it. He started walking faster, and as the shadow started moving away, Eric started sprinting lightly.

He was almost there at the end of the hall before he felt something on the other side, grabbing onto his shirt. He hissed, frightened as he turned his body and flashed the light in someone’s face. Eric’s eyes widened as it was a nurse, with short, brown curly hair and glaring eyes.

“Son, what do you think you’re doing at this time?”

Eric stuttered, not sure what to say.

“But, I saw…”

“You saw nothing, boy. I’m taking you back to your room, come with me.”

“Do you not see it? It’s right there!” Eric said, and the nurse towards where Eric pointed his flashlight and shook her head.

“It was probably a nightmare, son. Now, no more lingering, back to your room.”

Eric was about to say something else but as the nurse walked besides him, he turned to find the shadow still there, flaunting him.

He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

_“Eric?”_

_The boy turned from the bed to see his friend on the floor, underneath one of Eric’s blankets with only his head sticking out._

_“What, Butters? I was almost...”_

_“I can’t sleep.” Butters confessed, playing with his thumbs. Eric stared at Butters for a second before sighing, reaching over on his side and finding Clyde Frog. He tossed the stuff animal towards Butters, who just looked at the toy, confused._

_“What is this?”_

_“He helps me sleep, so just hold him, I guess.”_

_Eric rolled over to the other side and closed his eyes, listening to the light snores Butters made as he eventually went to bed. He looked back at Butters and rolled his eyes before pulling his own blanket over his shoulder, sheep falling out of his head._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, couple of things:
> 
> Regarding chapter updates, I originally anticipated trying to get something out every Tuesday, or at least every other Tuesday. My schedule has been a little jaded, I have university finals all of the first half of this month basically, so updates will probably not start kicking up until towards Christmas time. I will try to get chapters out on Tuesdays, but just keep this mind in case.
> 
> And also, the rating for this will probably go into Mature relatively soon. I already have plans for the next chapter to have it go into that boundary so I feel like now would be the good time to mention it. 
> 
> I've noticed that I have gotten a few comments regarding Eric's characterization, so I want to thank those of you who have commented on how I have been writing it. (I thank all of the comments and support, of course, as well). Honestly, writing Eric has been one of the hardest aspects regarding this story, so the fact that you think I'm doing well on that part makes me very happy. Eric is a very complex, intricate character within South Park (which is why I honestly believe people stem away from writing him as much within the fanbase), so I really wanted to do him justice.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments/kudos/support, and until next time, thanks for reading.


	4. sometimes it snows in april

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, finals are over and I'm going to be staying in Texas for a couple of weeks! I wanted to thank everyone for your kind comments and words regarding the story so far. It makes me very happy that you enjoy seeing Eric this way and want him to get better.
> 
> There will be some naughtier stuff in this chapter, nothing too bad but let's just say I was being serious when the rating change was going to be applicable starting now.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you all have an amazing last couple of weeks of the year! (God knows we need it...)

_Eins. Zwei. Drei._

Words that ticked like a metronome in the brain, Eric sighed as he reached for his stuffed frog from the other side of his bed. He tucked in the head to its stomach and did the same with its arms, until it resembled a ball. He glanced up at the white ceiling and tried to throw the toy with all of his strength, watching as gravity took its course. It rebounded against the surface, just to fall back into the teenager’s hands. Eric was amused, as he easily was, so he continued throwing the frog until his arms became sore.

Last night was something that the boy hadn’t expected. The shadow continued to plague him, even into hours of the next afternoon, and he was begging himself to find something to keep him occupied. He was given that moment of fortune as there was a brief knock at the door. Eric grunted, raising himself up to walk over to the door.

“Who is it?” He mumbled, realizing he hadn’t spoken all day and the grogginess was apparent.

“Open the door, Cartman.” The brunette scowled slightly at his last name being used, but he did as he was told. Two men were standing on the other side, one of them Eric recognized from court. He was old, wrinkled with a brown mustache. The other one, at least a foot shorter, didn’t look much better.

“Can I help you?”

“We’re going to need you to come with us, son.”

Eric didn’t say anything but he bit the inside of his mouth as the recollection words he probably shouldn’t have said flooded back. He underestimated the fact that the woman worked here, dammit. He sighed, leaving with the two escorts in front of him.

_Vier. Fünf. Sechs._

The halls felt empty that afternoon. Eric glanced at empty horizons, wondering if the shadow would be coming out for him again. He clenched his eyes, he couldn’t let it be the same way again. He needed a way to get out of his, so he could actually sleep at night, so he could sleep at all.

They took a route downstairs and ended up back in the lobby area of the clinic. The man that Eric recognized ushered him into another room, and Eric blinked in confusion. He expected closed-in perimeters, dim lights and a two chairs stacked next to a long table. Instead, there were several tables, with sets of parents talking to their children and other members of the facility. He realized that someone must have been here waiting for him, and while he was expecting a pampered face, rich with eyeshadow and makeup, he was directed towards somebody else.

“Mrs. Stotch, he’s here for you.”

_Sieben. Auch. Nuen._

An older woman with short, blonde hair and frightful eyes glanced up towards Eric. She smiled wearily. He hadn’t seen her in years, since he was little more than a child. Age didn’t suit her, unlike his mother who worked with that singular quality.

“Eric, I’m happy you were able to come see me.”

 _Not like I really had a choice._ Eric thought to himself as he sat down. There was the brief moment of silence, words erased through shared looks of sympathy and apathy. Linda wasn’t a terrible person. No, Eric only thought of her as the indifferent parent, the kind that would allow their child to do anything and not care. Her husband, on the other hand, was a mystery beyond Eric, and he wondered how they could have possibly raised a son together and still survive the aftermath.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here.” Linda said, reaching into her purse for something.

She pulled out a small white bag with blue tissue paper stuffed inside. Eric felt it and recognized it as a small gift someone would give another if they haven’t seen them in so long. He didn’t care for extra thoughts or useless trinkets but he wasn’t dismissive of it. Hell, it could be money.

“I just heard from the grapevine that you were in here and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“You hardly know me.” Eric muttered, and Linda twitched. She carried on, regardless.

“Stephen and I know that it’s been difficult. Jesus, you even look you haven’t gotten much sleep.”

“Better now than it was before.” Eric was starting to feel anxious, and he was bitter. They didn’t know what it was like, being in unfamiliar territory where the walls could have closed in any minute. He wanted to get away before she drilled questions he didn’t care about listening to. He was just thankful her husband didn’t accompany her.

Linda looked at Eric for a few seconds and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Butters also wanted me to check up on you and see how you were doing.”

“Where is he?” Eric asked, looking down to see Linda play with her hands nervously.

“He’s still getting work done at the hospital, but he’s pulling through. He always asks me if you’re doing okay, and I keep telling him I will check up on ‘ya and let him know.”

Eric moved slightly in his seat, the idea of Butters being stuck in the same situation he was in, only he could barely move. Instead of being chained to a lifeless institution, he was promised normalcy, and Eric wished he could feel that promise, instead of wonder when he would just wither away. The blonde boy mentioned he never broke a bone in his body, never even pulled a sprain. Now look at him. Eric shook his head, refusing to cave to this woman’s implements of blame. It wasn’t just him, no, it was both of them.

They were both to blame for what they had done.

“You know if you ever need anything, money, food, the basics…you could ask us. We would be more than happy to help you.”

Just as long as you help your son first, Eric thought. He bit down his tongue before anything slithered between his lips. He simply looked at the other woman, saw her slight smile, and fought to understand. Why do people keep coming in, banging his internal door so loud that it would break down? He could never grasp why people kept trying to get inside him.

“Can I just ask you a question?”

“Anything, sweetie.” Linda reached out her hand and tried to grab Eric’s, but he moved his wrist out of reach.

“Did Liane send you here too?” Eric asked, and Linda didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to, Eric knew perfectly clear. The boy sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

“She only wants to be there for you, Eric. She’s your mother. Your health is what she cares about…”

“I don’t care.” Eric gritted through his teeth, his anger starting to get the best of him. Linda looked with worried eyes, and the two escorts came back between the two of them.

“Everything alright here, ma’am?” The shorter of the two men asked, and Eric stood up from his seat, pushing the bag Linda gave him back.

“Tell my mom to stop giving a shit about stuff that doesn’t involve her.” Eric said, close to Linda. He glanced towards the escorts. “We’re done here.”

The blonde woman nodded slowly as the three gentleman made their way out of the room and back to the hallways.

 _Zehn_.

And then back to number one again.

* * *

“Are you more of a cat or dog person, Eric?”

The question caught Eric by surprise, as he glanced towards his psychiatrist with a playful look on his face. They had been in session for only five minutes, talking about lesser important things than the internal conflict inside Eric’s mind. The brunette didn’t have to think about the answer.

“Cat, obviously.”

“Really?” Kyle scrunched his face, baffled. His head was in his hand, glasses slowly dipping off the bridge of his nose.

“Cats are more independent, plus they don’t slobber all over when they lick you.”

“I always pictured you as a dog person, but…I can see it.” Kyle straightened himself up. “Although I guess with certain traits of your personality, it makes more sense that way.”

“What do you mean?” Eric raised an eyebrow. He imagined Mr. Kitty walking into the room, rubbing herself against his legs and purring.

“Well, more introverted people are drawn to cats. It’s basically something that aligns with the difference of behavior between dogs and cats.”

“You think I’m introverted?” Eric asked, and Kyle laughed. The boy flushed slightly at the sound and licked his lips.

“See, that’s the dilemma. With me, I can see that you have introverted characteristics, but I feel as though you truly wish to seek out others. You seem to be the kind of person that is attention-seeking. Trust me, that isn’t an issue. It’s actually a trait that many people benefit from.”

“Attention-seeking.” Eric repeated, leaning forward. “See, I figured that was your kind of thing.”

“You think so?” Kyle grinned. “And what makes you say that?”

Eric didn’t say anything at first. He wasn’t sure how to counter that, but an idea clicked and he decided to go with it.

“I bet I can tell you what kind of person you are.” Eric said. He witnessed surprise in Kyle’s eyes, and he knew he had his catch, but he couldn’t refuse pushing it further. “With from what we have seen of each other these past few weeks.”

“By all means, go ahead, _Dr. Cartman_.” Kyle took a sip of his tea. The affirming tone made Eric shiver, but he shook it off.

“When you…were younger, you got the best grades.” Eric said. “You couldn’t stand the thought of getting less than A’s on whatever you finished.”

“Is it the glasses that gave it away?” Kyle laughed.

“Your parents would push you since you were young for those grades. They would push you to do sports too, but you wouldn’t be interested, except maybe one…track?”

“Basketball. Close enough.”

“Uh, right. Anyways, you had a close circle of friends, and you also loved being in school organizations. Book club, student council. You were often the president, too.” Eric felt like he was really getting somewhere. Kyle looked just interested, the forest shade in his eyes continuing to encourage him. Eric was confused why his hands felt so shaky.

“Your favorite season is autumn and your birthday is in…either May or April. I’m going with May. Your favorite color is green and your favorite animal is elephants. You have a sibling, but only one because you seem to be the type of person who’s a protective family member but not stuck in the middle, and I am going to guess before you wanted to be a psychiatrist, you wanted to go to law school.”

“I actually wanted to be a school counselor, but that was…pretty spot on. Wait, how did you know my birthday was in May?”

Eric wanted to mention he could tell the man was a Gemini, but he didn’t want to sound awkward so he said nothing.

“Lucky guess?”

“Well.” Kyle clapped his hands on his desk and smiled widely. “I have to say, maybe you really know me more than I know myself!”

“Um.” Eric rubbed the back of his head. “Really, it was just all a lucky…”

“It’s my turn isn’t it?” Kyle asked. He stood up and walked over towards Eric, bringing his chair with him. The boy would have commented on preferring his own personal space but with a single smell of the man’s cologne, he changed his mind.

“Depends on what’s going to be said.”

Kyle chuckled as he sat down and leaned forward. Eric found himself fascinated with how pale Kyle was, and how it complimented his head of red hair. Typically he didn’t have a thing for redheads but he found it…

_No, he couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t let himself going into that route._

“Well, Eric, since I already know some things…your favorite color is Red, your birthday is the first of July, and you love the Broncos – which is a plus since I love them, too.” Kyle and Eric exchanged chuckles at this. “I can see that you are someone that not many people understand. Or, in a better phrase, you’re someone that not many people are willing to try to understand. You present yourself in a way that begs other people for answers, and that is honestly so incredible.”

_Do not even look at this lips or the way he’s talking, don’t fix yourself on his minty breath…_

“But I can also see dark things inside you. We all carry that within us, except I feel as though it’s especially apparent with you. You want others to like you but when you present yourself, you are too strong. You need that power to carry yourself, to show how you want others to see you, but it’s too much for some people, and that’s fine, Eric. We all need to learn to address the darkness within ourselves, and how with proper time and understanding, we can fixate on how that darkness can be used to better us rather than be against us. I hope I’m making sense.”

Eric was trying to keep attention, but those _lips_ and _eyes_ , those magnificent shades of green and black…

“You’re someone that can take the world by force, but even the smallest things can be forceful to you. I realize this is going to take time, but I want you to see the goodness inside of yourself. I am glad you can be this way towards me.”

_Stop, just don’t look anymore._

“I want you to trust me, Eric.”

Eric was shaking now. Kyle put his hand on Eric’s wrist, and even though it looked cold so many times before, even when he shook his hand that first day, it was incredibly warm now. It felt like it could melt his skin off and just expose him, bone by bone. Kyle squeezed his arm slightly.

“I’m glad you could start to trust me, too.”

* * *

Eric said nothing to anyone as he almost ran to his room.

He felt this undeniable urge to release himself, he had felt this way the entirety of the rest of their session and it hadn’t stopped. He didn’t want to expose himself so cleanly, but just simple words and phrases from the doctor’s mouth and he was practically on fire. He opened the door to his room and breathed in deep, barely managing to make it to the bathroom before grabbing a tissue. Struggling to put his hand down his pants, he found what he was looking for and lightly started to pleasure himself.

He thought about the way Kyle’s breath was so close to his mouth, and how he could enjoy such a thing when he wasn’t sure who the hell he was sexually. Regardless of whether he wanted to be attracted to this man or not, he couldn’t deny he wanted stimulation, just from his words, that look in his eyes. Was it just the fact that Kyle could possibly want him, could be interested in someone as low as he was?

Would Kyle be aroused at the things this boy, this monster had done? _No_. Eric knew if he went deeper would be disappointed, but he didn’t care. This was about him right now. Him, and his aching dick beneath his jeans.

He went faster with his hand, looking down and biting his lower lip as he saw the blood, that imaginary blood he still had no fucking clue why it was even there. It dripped off his fingertips, against the floor. He knew he was just seeing this, there was no way this was real, but he closed his eyes and sweat and tears threatened to clog his vision. He could barely concentrate. How did it get so hot in here.

He almost called out his name. _Kyle_. What a short, sweet to the touch name. This man that was obviously older than him, he must have had experience with this kind of thing. Eric smiled to himself at the idea of Kyle telling him what to do, to spread his legs further and to ‘trust him.’ They would have had fun together, Eric knew this, but the man would deny anything. There couldn’t be any soiled relationships within the establishment. Eric knew this was a hell-hole from the beginning, but dammit, if someone like him could make him feel this way, that nobody else ever could.

He was getting close now. There were puddles now near the sink, and he clutched the edge of the marble, biting his tongue so harshly he could see the stars. He could practically taste the buds on his muscle. Internally, he screamed as he finally came, semen dripping onto the ground and foggy clouds of imaginary sin not letting Eric go. The boy found himself, back on the wall, as he dropped down. He put his head in his hands, sniffing softly at the idea of how this man could break him this badly.

And it had only been just a few weeks since they had met.

After some minutes have passed and Eric’s body finally started to cool down, he looked out of the bathroom window and found that it was snowing. Snowflakes were pressed against glass, melting and turning into drops that descended onto the windowsill. Eric sighed.

“I’ve got to get out of here.”


	5. rise and fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't get it from the last chapter, this fiction is rated Mature.
> 
> Also I don't typically do this but: Trigger Warning (self-harm references).

Living at Peak View made Eric painfully aware of just how much he wasn’t a morning person.

There would be times where he would need to get up for therapy, whether that be with the bitch, or the pureblooded Jewish man – well, pureblooded as far as those go. Most weekend mornings would be spent in sessions, doctor appointments, just something for him to get out of bed to wish he was back in it. Needless to say, when he did get the chance to sleep in, he held the covers over his ears and swore he’d kill if he heard someone knocking. He made sure to picture an axe in his hand as jinxed himself.

Saturday morning, 9:35, and Wendy Testaburger was standing in front of his door. She wore a light jacket, and running shoes?

“Hey, wasn’t expecting you to get up on the first try.” She said, sounding peppier than other young adults their age should. Eric groaned to himself, throwing that axe in the trash.

“What are you doing, and how did you find my room?”

Wendy flashed a smile, pulling up her black hair into a ponytail. Her bangs were left alone, barely covering the humor in her eyes.

“I talked to the people up front and they gave me the number. Since I work with Mr. Broflovski it just makes sense for them to let me see one of my patients.”

“First of all,” Eric started, “you’re not my psychiatrist, you’re his assistant. Wait, they just let you in here?”

“You are still one of the patients I have to help out, so yeah, you are my patient, smart ass.” Wendy said. “And let’s not worry about that right now. I want to go take a walk outside, it’s actually pretty warm today and I am not sitting around waiting for it to snow again.”

“So you woke me up just to ask if I wanted to walk with you…?” Eric saw the optimistic look in the Wendy’s face, and he was ready to get that axe once again and just inflict himself.

He glanced out at the window of his room, seeing a yellow haze and reminding himself he was moving out of Colorado when he got the chance.

“I mean, you have an appointment later with Mr. Broflovski right?”

The brunette winced at the fact she still called her boss by his elaborate last name.

The first time they met, Kyle wanted Eric to call him by just that, but maybe it was just one of those things where he felt the need to try to connect. Eric froze up at the thought of the doctor, looking at the palms of his hands and remembering what crimes they’ve committed for the past couple of weeks. Perhaps it wasn’t a crime – to relieve yourself while your entire body itches for something it cannot have, physical attention. In a place where it’d be impossible for men to enjoy their orgasms without stuffing their mouths with blankets, praying nobody will hear you through the thin walls, Eric had to do the same – except he had resorted to late night trips to the bathroom, just to look into crumpled toilet paper and hating himself more for doing it.

Wendy snapped her fingers, breaking Eric away from his thoughts. “Hello?”

“Wha – oh yeah.”

“So, if we go for a walk then we get grab something to eat before we have to head over to the office. It’s like killing two birds with one stone, right?” Wendy asked. Eric raised an eyebrow at that and crossed his arms.

“Not really sure if the saying works like that, considering it’s barely related…”

“Listen, if go with me, I’ll get you a bag of those gross chips you like so much.”

Wendy didn’t see a difference of reaction from Eric and she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, two bags.”

“Why did you want me to go with you, don’t you have other friends that are obsessed with waking people up early in the morning for stupid reasons?”

“Honestly, I feel like I should try to get to know everyone I work with or for while I’m here at Peak View, so I don’t want it to just be a connection between them and Mr. Broflovski. I want to be able to help people too, and see their growth from when we started to our last day, so I think it’d be really important if you could do this with me. We don’t have to do it again, just this one time.”

Eric stood at the doorway, trying to navigate through the water gates of her eyes to see how much of that was pure bullshit. When he didn’t see any, he shrugged..

“Just give me five minutes, gotta put on my jacket…actually get out of my pajamas.”

Wendy grinned, looking down and scoffing at the patterns of sharks on his shirt before Eric closed his door.

* * *

 

The weather was actually decent.

Eric looked down at himself, not knowing when he would have worn his three year-old Nike shorts again with his teared up tennis shoes. There was a trek that ran around the recreational center of the clinic. It wove itself around the area, from the acres where the entrance was all the way to the back with the wired fence. Wendy started to slightly jog in place, punching the air. She reminded Eric of those eccentric actors who created those home-workout videos, moving every way possible before the warm-up.

“We are just walking, right?” Eric asked, and Wendy slowed down. She had already started a sweat.

“Of course, I’m not going to force you to run or anything. Not like we’d get that far, anyways.”

Eric raised an eyebrow and was going to ask what she meant by that but he bit his lower lip. He watched the sweat start to move from her forehead down to her neck, strands of black hair sticking to the back. He found himself stuck to the image.

“We can start here and make our way around, just walk a couple of miles.”

They started making their way, Wendy’s ponytail swooshing behind her while she drank from her water bottle.

Eric’s arms started to feel the early effects of sunburn.  He could feel the roughness of his thighs as they rubbed against one another, exercise foggy in his memory. There were only the days of high school gym, playing football and swimming in the South Park lakes during the summer. Those days felt so strange in his memory, where he had fun instead of dreading the return home to a mother who might not have been there to welcome him back, or if she was, just fucking someone on their living room couch. The same hands that would dig themselves into a man’s shoulders, were they the same that handled a hot pan of brownies out from the oven?

Eric gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on the trail, a muddy line soaked beneath the grass.

Wendy looked over her shoulder at him and smiled.

“Doing alright?”

“Why did I agree to do this with you…” Eric asked himself, wiping his face as he started to feel the sweat. Wendy laughed, and for once the boy didn’t mind that sound. It felt natural, like she had been waiting to laugh like that.

“You know, when you work out or even just take a brisk walk, you release endorphins that make you feel good. You’ll be thanking me later.”

“I doubt it, but whatever makes you sleep better at night.” Eric replied.

He felt his voice start to grow weaker as his muscles reminded him of just how much of his body wasn’t adapted to his. He pushed on. The silence carried for a few more minutes, as they made their around round with a corner of the trek, and they started heading towards the western side of the area. Acres of land surrounded the clinic, trees providing security as they circled the facility. Eric could only see the trail towards the entrance as a way to get out. He wondered what would happen if he sprinted off, going through the thousands of trees and finding a way back to South Park. He glanced towards Wendy, who just continued walking, breathing in through her mouth and out from the nose, like she was a true professional. They kept walking, not breaking too much distance between them.

“Do you have any siblings, Eric?”

“I’m an only child.” The idea of having a brother was always too good to be a reality.

“That makes both of us, although I kind of enjoy having all of the attention. Can you imagine being in a family with a bunch of siblings who looked and acted so much like you? It’s just so strange.”

“I’ve never been good about sharing my own stuff, so I’d probably kick the shit out of them if they ever touched my toys.” Eric commented. He saw a lot of bewilderment from Wendy and he simply shrugged.

“I mean, I would.”

“Mr. Broflovski has a younger brother. I’ve seen pictures of him, he’s pretty cute. It’s just funny because they look nothing alike – his brother has jet black hair, and he’s Canadian.”

“Canadian?”

“He was adopted into their family. They are so different it makes me laugh.” Wendy chuckled. “I can definitely see him as a caring older brother, though.”

“Why do you call Kyle by his last name? You’ve known for a while now, right?” Eric asked as they made another turn, towards the south. They must have already been walking for a half hour now, for Eric’s legs were already feeling out of it. He knew he would die in his sleep from the way his body would catch up with all of this exercise.

“I’ve just always called him that. He told me that calling him by his first name was fine, but it was what I originally stuck with, so I never bothered to change.”

Eric didn’t respond so Wendy continued.

“I’ve been working with him for years now. It definitely has brightened up so many possibilities for me, about what career paths I could take or where I would want to center my profession. He has even helped me with starting to build my resume. Isn’t that wild?”

Eric thought about what his resume would look like. No work or finished school experience, just a long ass time of staying in this clinic until he’d move somewhere else. It was only a matter of time. He couldn’t stay here, just for the place to rot from his presence. The idea of not seeing Kyle again though – he didn’t want to do that.

“When I get official patients under my name, I should do this with them, too – just take walks and talk for a good hour. It really does make a difference when you can stand by someone’s side, whether walking or otherwise, and just hold conversation. Not a lot of people can give that time to do that.”

“If I wasn’t a patient, would you still want to do that with someone like me?” Eric asked, and he wasn’t sure why he bothered.

The girl looked at him, cocked an eyebrow, and didn’t say much else, except for keeping her hands behind her back. They rounded the last corner and they started heading back together, Eric chugging down the last bit of water before they walked into the building. Wendy pulled her hair out of her ponytail and sighed.

“Honestly? We’d probably have all the time in world.”

* * *

 

By the time Eric and Wendy reached the cafeteria, they hopped in the line before it become swarmed with other patients. Eric took his undercooked cheeseburger and found Kenny sitting at a booth. By the time Eric reached the table, Kenny pulled an earbud out and smirked.

“There he is. Where have you been, just walking around dead?”

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m not dead, still stuck here talking to the poor people like you.” Both of them chuckled at that. Eric started unwrapping his burger when he noticed something red on Kenny’s neck. More than one red spot was noticeable, starting from near Kenny’s exposed collarbone to his chin.

“Um, mosquito bites?” Eric asked, and Kenny nodded.

“They’re everywhere, man. I’ve tried spray, covering my head while I sleep, they just come after you. I’ll be back, I’m going to refill my water bottle.” Kenny said, leaving the table. Wendy sat across from Eric, starting to open the package to her ranch dressing for her salad.

“Is Kenny doing okay?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Eric replied, biting into his food and trying not to throw up on the spot. They couldn’t even bother putting condiments on there?

* * *

 

When Eric realized that Kyle wasn’t going to be able to come for his appointment that day because of a lost tire, he tried to read more of Catcher and the Rye.

He managed to read more than he did before, actually getting through the chapter five, before having to stop. The book wasn’t too bad, he decided, even though he was confused why Kyle connected it to him. After putting it back in his dresser he prompted himself on his bed, thinking about Kyle and realizing he was getting a hard-on. He sighed, sinking his hand underneath his shorts and feeling himself through his boxers.

There was no indication that Eric would feel this way about a man. If there was sexual attraction, Eric would dismiss it or label it as confusion. However, this was the most physical he had cared to be with himself. Since their last meeting, Eric touched himself at least once a day. He kept the thought in his mind that the same face in his head would be the one he still had to confront with, knowing that it could be harder for him. Eric froze, hand still fondling his cock, and he sat up. Clyde Frog stared at him from the edge of the bed, like a child looking blankly.

Did this mean that he was gay? Eric felt a chill run down his back, the internal epiphany making him unsettled. There was the attraction, but what else? Kyle was the one good thing to come out of his place, Eric knew. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to help him. Maybe guidance was something that a person could look for in another. He took his hand out and stared at all of red that stuck to his fingers.

* * *

_“Why are you wearing that?”_

_Butters smiled sheepishly, twirling around in a pink skirt that fit well on his hips, if not a little too big._

_“My mom left it on the floor of her room before she went to work. She only wears it when she goes out on the town with Dad.”_

_Eric took another drink of his Dr. Pepper and turned his attention back on the TV. Butters sat next to him on the couch and took a Cheesy Poof out of the bowl next to him. Terrance and Phillip were laughing loudly in the backround, and Eric turned the volume up._

_“I don’t mind wearing the clothes that they get me, but clothes that girls wear are s’much prettier.” Butters played with the end of the skirt, tapping the red slip-ons that Eric assumed were from the spot._

_“If I went to school wearing this, the other fellas would probably just make fun of me.”_

_“Probably.” Eric said. He looked over his shoulder and saw the sulk on his friend’s face, and he sighed. “But I mean, if it makes you feel good about yourself, why should you care about what others say?”_  


_“Even when it’s my friends?”_

_“Well, then they’re probably not your friends in the first place, right?” Eric watched Butters brighten up._

_“Guess you’re right.”_

_They continued watching the show until it was almost over. Eric glanced anxiously at the clock on the wall. He turned off his TV and the two of them headed out to go to Butter’s house._

_“You know, Eric, I’m glad that you and I are friends.” Butters had no problem with these words, like it was easy for them to confess._

_Eric just rolled his eyes._

* * *

Whenever Eric had to go to group therapy, he took his time.

He didn’t care if Jackson was going to report him, but he knew he didn’t want to go, so sometimes he’d show up late halfway through. She never mentioned the incident to anyone, otherwise Eric knew he’d be thrown out and sent somewhere worse. It was still strange to know that Jackson still sent smiles and giggles to the rest of the session, knowing that Eric was there, watching and still despising her from a distance.  

So when he went to class and noticed neither Kenny nor Jackson were there, even after ten minutes of being late, he asked himself if he should just leave altogether.

“If she doesn’t come should we just go?” Richard asked. Roger shifted in his seat from across the way.

“She’s normally not late.”

“Okay, but that avoided the question. Are we going to stay here or not?” Richard looked towards Eric, who just shrugged. As soon as those words left his lips Ms. Jackson swarmed into the room, looking like she just escaped a scrap outside. Her hair was flying away and her books looked like they’d fall out of her clutches.

“So sorry I’m late, the traffic was terrible and I had a phone call last minute that just wouldn’t hang up. I don’t know why all of you look like you’re about to leave, go back to your seats. I was a little late but I’m here now so…” She set all of her stuff down and took a deep breath. She sent a nervous smile towards the group, pulling some of her curls away from her face with a clip.

Eric glanced towards the empty seat, and Ms. Jackson seemed to have followed suit.

“Kenneth isn’t going to be with us today. He’s been having personal issues but he should be fine by next week.”

Eric said nothing in response and avoided her gaze for the rest of the class.

When he left he went straight to Kenny’s room and knocked, trying to put his ear next to the door to hear anything.

There was no sound of acknowledgement, so Eric left.

* * *

 

 “You came early today, Eric.”

Eric didn’t think about how close Kyle was when he opened his door, looking over him. Kyle took a second to look at Eric’s shirt and smiled.

“That color looks good on you. Come in, we have a lot to discuss.”

The younger boy flushed slightly at the compliment. He didn’t want to admit he purposely wore his only button-up because it was one of the only clean things he had, but he reminded himself to wear red more often. Kyle gestured towards the seat opposite of his desk, waiting for Eric to get comfortable.

“Do you want to try some of these honey-roasted nuts?” Kyle offered some of his snack to Eric who just shook his head.

“They’re pretty good. I just started trying them because they’re from my favorite brand and it’s their newest flavor.” Kyle popped a peanut in his mouth. Eric had a thought but shooed it away as soon as it came to mind.

“Anyways, sorry I couldn’t come to the last schedule session. My front tire just decided to pop on the way here and the tow-truck  took longer than expected.” Kyle groaned at the memory. “Do you drive?”

“I only have my permit.” Eric replied, looking blankly at Kyle’s hand as it fiddled with his snack.

“Maybe you should keep it that way. People are continually getting worse at driving with each year I have my license. I mean, that makes me sound like an old man, but it’s true.”

“At least you don’t have to drive in New York.” Eric said, watching a coy grin form on Kyle’s lips.

“I have family in New Jersey, so sometimes I have to drive up there and that’s just something altogether.”

Both of them laughed at that. Eric couldn’t imagine what kind of driver Kyle would be – a part of him wondered if he had road rage. It would be humorous to see his face match in color with his hair.

“Regardless, I feel like I should let you know that I have been trying to get something done at this place.” Kyle leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure that staying here you haven’t had much of a chance to explore this part of Colorado.”

“Not really.” Eric said.

Kyle had an excited look in his eyes, and Eric couldn’t tell if that should scare him or excite him as well.

“That’s exactly why I am trying to convince this place to let me take a group of you out somewhere for a day trip. I think it’d be good to get outside and see the sights here. If they keep you all cooped up in your rooms for the entirety of your stay, it’s just not healthy.”

“Did they approve of it?”

Kyle shook his head.

“They’re just cautious. I mean, if I were in their shoes as well, I’d probably be the same but as the doctor it just makes sense for you to have fun, to go outside and live like teenagers. If it was like this while I was a patient I would have lost my damn mind.”

Eric’s eyes widened slightly and he shifted in his chair. “Wait, you were a patient?”

There was a moment of silence as Kyle chuckled.

“It was years ago, maybe I was a little younger than you, but I have had my fair share of hospitalization. High school was such a strange blur of time, but…”

There was a somber look on his face.

“Since I was a child, I had always been skinny. Well, skinnier than I needed to be, but while you’re young you don’t really care about that kind of thing. You play games, annoy your parents. You don’t care about what makes the other kids different because you have your mind on just one thing, and then the next, something else. But I knew that I could never gain weight, and when I got to middle school, my classmates started teasing me for it.”

Kyle shook his head, to where Eric couldn’t see his eyes behind his glasses.

“When I was in high school, the teasing turned into actual bullying. They threw food at me, called me horrible names, told me nobody would want to hold someone that was like a stick. Eventually, I started skipping school without my parents knowing, and when it got to the point where I was physically harassed, it turned into this.”

When he started rolling his sleeves up, he showed his wrists to Eric. They were very light, but he could still see fragments of what used to be Kyle confronting with his previous sadness.

“It’s been years since I’ve cut myself but some of the marks just never went away. Maybe at the time I wanted it to be that way, to remind myself that there were people out there who didn’t care about you, who just called you names because they didn’t feel right with themselves. But after getting the help I needed, I realized that there was nothing wrong with my weight, and if anyone thought so, then…”

Kyle scoffed.

“Pardon my French, but they could just go fuck themselves.”

Eric watched Kyle pull his sleeves back down, and just shook at his story. He had been struggling with his weight as well but never to the point where he inflicted pain on himself.

“I’m sorry, Kyle.” Eric said. “It must have been so horrible to go through that.”

“Well,” Kyle replied, smiling, “ it was horrible, until I knew that I did have friends that were there for me. If it weren’t for them, I don’t know what I would have done. Always count on those that really matter, Eric. It may be hard now, when people are so wishy-washy during this time in their lives, but you’ll know who your real friends are.”

Eric glanced towards the floor. He knew he was shaking, he couldn’t stop the tapping of his foot, and he was clutching the arms of his chair.

* * *

 

_“Do we really have to do this, Eric?”_

_Butters watched as his friend pulled on his jacket, a black hat with two cut-out holes in his hand. The brunette put ammo into a Browning Arms handgun._

_“I mean, what Clyde did, does this really help make up for it?”_

_“This is what I have to do, Butters. Either you can help me, or –“_

_“What is this even going to do, Eric?” Butters took the gun and waved it in his face. “What are you planning on using this for?”_

_“If you don’t like it, than just don’t use one!” Eric snatched the weapon back. “Jesus, this thing is loaded, don’t just take it!”_

_“Eric…” Butters watched Eric zip up his backpack after putting the gun inside. After slinging it on his back, he slid the black mask over his face, and even the blue of his eyes were almost unrecognizable._

_“Let’s go.”_

* * *

 

The next day, Eric tried going back to Kenny’s room and knocking on the door. He tried three other times, but didn’t hear anything back. He considered walking away and trying to come back later, but as he moved away he saw that the door was cracked by a bit. Looking left and right and seeing nobody, Eric took the knob in his hand and opened the door.

The room was empty, just a messy bed and a basket full of clothes. There were band posters, and an orange jacket was hanging by the bathroom.

“Kenny, are you…” Eric lightly called out as he closed the door behind him. He walked inside and looked around, but there was nobody inside of the bed, as there was no one in the bathroom. Walking by the bed, he smiled lightly at the fact that Kenny also had a stuffed animal that he slept with. He picked it up and turned it, seeing the patches that helped contain the fluff that tried to get out.

“He must have had this since he was in diapers…” Eric commented to himself. He tried to put it back on the bed but it slipped and it fell on the floor underneath the bed.

Eric groaned to himself as he leaned down and got on his knees. He looked under the bed and found the bear but as he was about to put it on the bed and get out of there, he saw a blue box just behind it.

Eric took the box out, widening his eyes at the carton of condoms that was open. It had barely been touched, but Eric could tell it wasn’t full.

“What the _fuck_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness gracious.
> 
> Almost an entire three month hiatus...what even is that?
> 
> You guys, thank you so much for your support even had that atrocious time of not writing anything since my last update in December. I have planning on how to approach this chapter for that time but actually writing it feels so surreal.
> 
> I am not planning on this particular fic having an enormous amount of chapters. I am actually planning on 10 - 15 being on a good number as I do have something planned for the last portion of the fic, but I will try to update on a more regular schedule (Regular, as a fic writer, ha!)
> 
> Again, thank you so, so much for all the comments, kudos, and everything else. It makes me so happy knowing you all enjoy this so far, and please tell me your thoughts! Thank you!


	6. a mother's bruise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's better to be good than evil, but one achieves goodness at a terrific cost."  
> \- Stephen King.

There was simply no question.

No question was asked in the back of Eric's mind as he stumbled out of Kenny's room, mind tangled in all the different possibilities and scenarios he couldn't help imagining. There was no question – Eric had seen the box with his own eyes. It was practically harmless, only the contents inside made Eric all the more curious and he refused to believe that Kenny was doing anything to get him in deeper shit.

He recalled back to months of the past, where Kenny raised that ring to the sun, reflection bouncing off so proudly it would make any married man envious. A newly kindled love was hard to reciprocate, even if it was worth waiting until both men could join at the hip instead of worrying about this _hell_ hole. So, when it came to the image of Kenny running around and having sex with someone other than his boyfriend, Eric had to stop himself.

No, it was simply out of the question.

It was so out of the question that Eric had to take a deep breath as he closed the door behind him. He watched nurses and staff members cross him, sending their trivial glances towards the boy who felt a bubbling sense of dread as it chewed him away from the inside. He didn't understand why this was impacting him so much. He should just leave it alone and let Kenny do whatever the hell he wants, but he dragged himself into this, and Kenny was nowhere to be found.

Did he leave the facility? Eric swept that thought away as soon as it appeared. There would be no reason for Kenny to go somewhere long-term without giving notice, especially when all of his stuff was still in his room. A shorter get away then? How the hell would Kenny manage that considering he had been there longer than Eric expected himself to stay?

Too many questions.

Eric didn't want to think about this anymore, he needed to find him and sort this out, even if he had to go through the entire clinic just to find him behind a trapped door. A shiver ran down his spine at the idea of someone taking Kenny and holding him somewhere, but Eric shoved it away as he pushed himself off the door and started to walk back to his own room, where he could bury his head in his pillows and forget any of this happened.

When he got to his room he found a piece of blue paper had slipped itself under his door. He picked it up and scrunched his face at the handwriting he was barely able to read. It was no doubt written by a doctor – it was fumbled and came across messy.

_Dear Eric Cartman,_

_Please make your way to the front office upon receiving this note. Make sure to bring your I.D._

_Carrie Buckler._

He recognized the name from his first day of moving in.

She was the woman responsible for getting the new patients set up and basically was the secretary of the establishment. She was an older woman with a wrinkled face and those bizarre glasses that were held by a band behind her ears. Eric had only seen her once or twice, but he felt his stomach churn.

_So Jackson finally spilled the beans, hm?_

Eric had thought that Ms. Jackson managed to keep it away from her supervisors since there was not a word about it after the incident. He didn't even get a warning, and he wondered if she finally caved. He groaned as he stuffed the paper into his pocket. If he didn't go, he couldn't imagine what they could do to him. He turned around after washing his face and putting a hoodie on before he walked back into the main hallway.

Once Eric reached the office, he was awaited with the scent of citrus as he opened the door.

The office was decorated with banzai trees and an assortment of motivational posters. A portrait of Buckler was on one of the walls, black and white with her in the center, next to a group of workers all wearing the same outfit. Eric tried to find Kyle in that group but couldn't see him. The lady herself was at her desk, an assortment of papers that remained untouched spread. She glanced up as if it was routine and saw Eric walking towards her, and she flashed what looked like an artificial smile.

“Eric, sweetie, there you are. Looks like you got my note.”

He didn't understand why people who worked here felt the need to talk to their patients like they were preschoolers. He gritted his teeth and fought the urge to say something he'd regret. The word _sweetie_ was held in the air with a poisonous intent and Eric refused to be taken down.

He was silent as he waited for the inevitable shift of her happy face to turn sour with Ms. Jackson's confession, but when she didn't do such a thing, he was baffled.

Instead, the older woman shifted in her seat. The clock ticked from above her and she lapsed one hand over the other.

“I wanted to get in touch with you for a while now, but you must know, we've been so busy here at Peak View that some things go unnoticed.” Her voice was hoarse and bitter, and she must have been drinking coffee as she lifted the mug at her side and took a sip.

Eric continued to remain silent. He was distracted by the collection of wooden dog artifacts on the side of her desk, as they stared back at him. Eric really didn't have a thing for dogs, just like he didn't have a thing for this _hag_.

“I hope your experience with us so far as been positive.” Buckler said, her fingers tapping on her desk's surface. When Eric continued to just stand there without a sense of purpose, the woman sighed and shifted herself upright. She started roaming through some of her pieces of paper until one with a phone number came out on top, and she picked it up.

“We got a call recently from Memorial Hospital that is a-whiles away earlier this morning. Do you hold any relationship with the boy of the name Leopold Stotch?”

Eric's blood ran cold and he shook his shoes. He licked his lips and nodded quietly.

The woman kept her stare on him, thankful for any kind of action, before she continued.

“According the call, your friend knows that you are here and requested you to visit him while he was in the hospital. Now, typically we do not grant our patents to visit people based on requests, but considering you have one visit you're allowed to make every three months and, since you haven't really made too much of an effort to tell us if you wanted to visit someone in your family, you are more than welcome to see your friend Leopold if that is what you want.”

Eric instantly nodded.

He knew that Butters must have been in the hospital for a while and he wanted to see how he was doing, even if they were both trapped in these situations that were rotting their minds. Butters was the only person he could see himself getting out of here for, even if his mother's image once tempted him before. He watched as Buckler nodded in affirmation, writing something else on that same sheet of paper.

“Alright, in that case you are more than happy to go today. We will call the hospital and let them know you're on your way, just wait here while I call someone to take you there.”

A few minutes later, a large-bodied female came into the office and glanced at Eric as he was sitting down. She was holding a pair of handcuffs and she latched them on before the two of them were off to a van in the clinic's parking lot.

Eric felt people glancing at him, cuffed and being led by one of the most intimidating women he had ever seen in his life. She stood barely taller than him, and her frown must have been implanted onto her face. He didn't dare speak to her, as he liked the idea of keeping his arms where they were instead of the on the pavement.

When the escort let Eric get in the backseat of the van, he sat next to the window as they pulled away.

Clusters of green and brown passed in full color underneath a cloudy Colorado sky, as Peak View blurred into nothing but the horizon. They drove through the gate and were on a rocky terrain. Eric couldn't remember seeing this many trees the first time he arrived, only the invisible dome that surrounded the area like some of kind of trap. He took a glance towards the front of the van, where the big lady kept her eyes on the path in front of them and as a bobble-head moved from in front of the radio. The lady turned it on and some old tune from the 60's played, a song that Eric thought was from Whitney Houston but couldn't mark it down. He looked back at those clouds and wondered if it would storm that night, the thought of this town flushing away in the back of his mind.

And so, the thought played in his imagination, water crashing like a chaotic ocean. He felt his eyes grow heavier as the music lingered, and then he saw nothing but black as he clutched his seatbelt.

* * *

_Eric Cartman had this hands playing with the strings of his hoodie as he blanked with the presentation in front of him._

_This class was a waste of his time. There was nothing to do but listen to the same lecture and his teacher's sob stories regarding her two miscarriages on repeat all semester. He wanted to take out the paper from his backpack just so he could sketch her to drill his pen between the lines. There was nothing remotely interesting about chemistry, and he imagined a fantasy where the school would set itself on fire so they could leave. He scoffed to himself, the picture of every story crashing down. His friend Butters noticed the smile on his face. The two of them shared the same period, but Butters was actually good in school and tried to get good grades._

_Eric had no idea how the boy had the patience._

_"Whatcha thinking about, Eric?” Butters asked from behind him. He playfully tampered with Eric's hood, and Eric turned, emotionless._

“ _I guess just wondering when this class will end.” Eric said._

_He learned over the years being straight-forward with Butters was really the only way one could talk to him. Anything else and Butters would just be confused. Butters chuckled at that and stopped messing around with his hood, keeping his voice to a whisper._

“ _I just figured you were off in your own thoughts as you usually are.” Butter replied. He watched as Eric didn't say anything and he continued talking with his voice low._

“ _You think the two of us can go hang out after school? There's this new game the two of us can try.”_

“ _Sure.” Eric replied._

_Eric figured he wouldn't be doing anything else, anyways. Waiting up for anyone after school was starting to become such a chore. He felt like spending time with Butters would have helped with that, even if it was a little. Eventually the class was starting to come to an end, but Butters and Eric remained even as the seconds ticked away for their next class. Butters was gushing about the new video game, when the two boys sensed another figure near them. Eric turned his face to find Clyde Donovan standing above them, a backpack slinged over his shoulder._

“ _You guys still hanging around here? Don't we all share Matteson?”_

“ _She's such a downer.” Butters remarked, looking towards Eric for some sort of validation. Eric gave none. Clyde laughed at what Butters said about their English teacher, and he nodded._

“ _It's whatever, as long as this day can just end so I can go home and get ready for tonight.”_

_Eric sensed the heaviness that statement brought, like Clyde was fishing for questions. Of course, Butters was the first one to fall victim and leaned forward with that spark in his eyes._

“ _Say, what are you doing tonight, Clyde?”_

“ _Hanging out with my dad.” Clyde replied._

_He grinned as the three of them started leaving the classroom to head to the other side of South Park High. Butters found this incredibly interesting and needed to know more, so he did just that._

“ _What are you fellas gonna be doing?” He asked. Clyde gave a strange kind of grin, one that Eric couldn't understand. It wasn't the way Clyde typically smiled, it felt some strange arura with it, like Clyde could just as well have taken the world by storm._

“ _We're going to see a friend of his and drink until we black out. That's what he said, anyways. I'm not sure if I'm going to get that bad, but it's a possibility. Apparently his friends are super crazy.”_

“ _Crazy, how?” Butters wondered out loud and Eric sighed._

“ _Butters, do you not have an off button when it comes to twenty questions?” Eric asked and Clyde laughed at that._

_Butters chuckled in secondhand embarrassment before Clyde said anything else._

“ _I've never met them, but my dad says they always get together and drink, so I figured I would go along for the ride.”_

“ _Well, I hope you have a good time, then!” Butters said, but Clyde didn't respond._

_He found his focus on Eric, who was just sending a passive glance that turned into a full-on stare. Eric felt something strange in his gut but didn't think about it. He could only continue to remain lingered with those eyes burning something into him, and Butters found this on Eric's face._

“ _Are you okay?” Butters asked after Clyde walked into their next classroom before them. Eric took a sharp breath and gave an empty smile._

“ _Mm.”_

* * *

The van took a sharp bump and Cartman found himself with his face pressed against the back of the car seat ahead of him.

He groaned as he lifted his face and took a glance out of the window he was looking out of earlier, and realized that they were at their destination. Eric spotted the radio in from of them and saw the time, somewhat shocked at the hour that had passed from when they left Peak View. The escort fumbled for something in her purse until she found what they was looking for, what must have been some identification.

She turned off the van and turned only for a split second.

“You got your I.D.?”

Eric felt for his permit that was in his jean pocket and he nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

The two of them left the van and started walking towards Memorial Hospital. Eric wondered how close they were to South Park, but shivered as a breeze came over them. The hospital itself was gigantic, it must of at least been over fifteen stories and it branched out into other smaller facets. Eric felt his stomach flip at he imagined himself at the top of it, leaning down towards all of the streets and cars that just continued to drive without registering a human about to plummet to the ground.

“Come on.” The lady mumbled, waiting for Eric to catch up as the two of them walked into the lounge.

It smelled heavily of body soap and medicine, and Eric was wanting to throw up with how strong it was. The two of them checked in and made their way to the elevator, where the escort continued to say nothing. Eric frowned and tried to read the paper on her chest that read her name. Delilah. How strangely uncharacteristic. The seconds ticked away like minutes as the elevator started moving up to the tenth floor, where Butters was staying.

Eric felt a wave of anxiety.

He didn't know what he was going to say when Butters say him. Obviously he must have wanted Eric to come, otherwise that phone call wouldn't have existed and there would be no telling when the two of them would have confronted with one another. It was strange, not knowing what to say to a boy you always considered your best friend, one of which you hadn't seen in months and didn't think about too much in...also months.

Eric sighed to himself. All of the fault could have passed down to his own arrogance and passive behavior. To what, Eric wasn't sure, but he dragged Butters into this and now the circumstances were starting to unfold in front of him. He could feel the weight start to take him down deeper, deeper into what he hadn't thought he was capable of before. The same hands that carried blood also carried the potential to take away lives, and Eric would never forget that.

A white lounge had turned into more white hallways as the elevator opened and Delilah led him to the room number. 10-420. Eric saw the five digits in bold on the right side of the entrance and he was starting to shake, sweat sticking to the insides of his cuffs.

_Zehn - Vier, Zwei, Null._

As if his escort was aware of this, she started taking the cuffs off and waited for Eric to open the door.

“You got a half hour. Do anything fishy and don't think of coming back here again.”

Her breath was close to his nostrils and he picked up cheap tobacco. He bit down his lower lip in disgust before he gave a slow knock. It was too quiet, and he wondered if Butters was asleep. He tried again, louder this time, and he heard a cough and a ring of a bell on the inside of the room. Delilah looked at him in approval, and Eric wrapped a hand around the doorknob.

He stared at the door for a brief second, and then he opened it.

* * *

 

_A thunder crack roared through the sky that Tuesday night. It was vivid, stretching across patches of clouds with the zigging and zagging of lightning to come afterwards. Eric found it no different than other thunderstorms. He was on his couch and fumbled through the channels, intrigued by the complete lack of shows on that interested him. He looked towards the clock on the wall and saw that it was approaching one in the morning._

_Absolutely no different._

_He was about to get something to drink in the kitchen and go to his room to sleep, before he saw a bright pair of headlights flash in front of his house through the windows. He knew his mom was coming home but it normally wasn't until later that she came back, but the rain was pouring now and she pushed herself through the front door, dripping wet. The black dress was drenched and her hair hung as if she was a wet dog. Her red lipstick made a trail on the sides, and Eric saw the marks near her collarbone, purple and bruised. He thought they were hickies, and maybe they were, but they were too dark, skin that with any more damage could have come off the bone._

“ _Is...everything okay?” Eric asked, and Liane barely looked him in the eye. She scrambled into the kitchen and went through her cabinets, desperately finding some medicine in a white vial and emptying out more than the typical dose of Tylenol. She shoved it down her throat and choked, reaching for a bottle of water in the fridge. Eric raised his eyebrows as she sat down at the table, shivering. Mr. Kitty let out a questioning meow and Liane said nothing._

“ _Mom?” Eric tried again, and Liane lifted her head slowly. Dark eyes met his own._

“ _What is it, sweetie?” Her voice came out low and Eric tried to find the words to say. Even with a blood bond there was such a foreign aura that neither of them could adapt to._

“ _Are you doing okay?” He didn't understand his concern. He should have just gone to bed, then maybe this conversation wouldn't have happened, it wasn't too late. He could run up to this room, hide in the covers..._

_Run fat boy, run for your life._

“ _Everything's fine. Your mama is just a little run out right now. The rain made me slip and fall, so don't worry. Just go get some sleep.”_

“ _You have spots near your neck.”_

“ _Tripped and fell.”_

“ _Your dress looks torn at the ends...”_

“ _Awfully talkative today.”_

_Mr. Kitty meowed again, scratching the wooden table and desperate._

“ _Mom, you should just tell me what's going...”_

“ _Your mom just got into something she could have avoided, Eric. Now go to bed. Don't make me tell you again.”_

“ _Why are you just covering yourself with this bullshit?” Eric yelled. Anger filled him, uncontrollable emotions that shouldn't have bubbled this strongly. He cursed this mental disorder for making his feel this way but he cursed his mother, his whore of a mother even more._

“ _Go to bed, Eric. Now.” Liane said, she stood from the table._

_It shook from the sudden movement and Mr. Kitty jumped back. Ms. Cartman was just about to prove how furious their line of family could truly become, Eric knew this. He grew pale and wanted to get out of there, but he said nothing. There was nothing he could say. He watched as she walked past him and went towards the staircase, ending their conversation. He glanced behind him, seeing lines and streaks of red bruises on the backs of her legs. The little whore must have gotten it bad that evening, Eric thought to himself. But she was still his mother. With all the possible Gods out there, pointing Their fingers at him, she was still his mother._

_He spotted the cellphone on the edge of the table and he reached for it._

_In a drunken stupor she left it well enough alone, and Eric swept his hand over his lock screen. He went into the gallery and his face grew white at a picture of Liane having a drink with a brunette man in glasses. He swept it to a recent picture and almost dropped the phone, seeing a much younger man wearing a red jacket and a dark grin on his face, next to the man with glasses and Liane as they were drinking. The two men looked eerily familiar, and the boy was staring back at the camera like he could do anything_

_Just like his fucking dad._

* * *

Butters looked a lot better than Eric anticipated.

There was a quiet atmosphere between the two of them as Eric sat near the bed.

Butters was sitting up, bandages covering his arms and a huge patch on the left side of his body. An empty bowl with pieces of cereal that remained on the sides, and two deflating balloons were near the window. Butters had been smiling since Eric came in, but he looked exhausted. Eric couldn't blame him, and he eyed the damage that was done for the past ten minutes.

“It's getting better.” Butters said, as if in reply to where Eric was looking. The other boy glanced up and smiled lightly.

“I mean, it hurts like a bitch, but...”

“How much longer do you have in here?” Eric asked, and Butters took a short breath.

“A month or two, there's no telling.” Butters fumbled with his hands. “Gee, Eric. I'm glad you were able to come and see me. The only person who I've seen is my mom and well, you know how she gets...”

“I saw her, too.” Eric mentioned.

Butters passed a confused expression before Eric explained.

“She came and saw me a few weeks ago. She wanted to talk to me about Liane, but then she mentioned you, too. She said you were asking about me?”

“Of course I was.” Butters said. His blue eyes were sharp, but they didn't hold the same bitterness that was in Linda's.

It was always a sweeter sharpness.

“I always ask about you, Eric.”

“Just always checking up on me.” Eric smiled. He felt like it was the first genuine smile he had made in months. “Sometimes you're practically hopeless.”

There was a brief silence. Butters didn't say another word, and he looked out of it. He spotted the balloons out of the corner of his, how one of them was dangling so low it would give out at any second. Eric wondered what the point was of even keeping them in here if they were just going to give out anyways. They should have just been thrown away.

“I'm...really glad you game, Eric.”

“Me too.” Eric said after a while. “I wasn't sure if you would have been okay. I didn't mean to...”

“I know you didn't.” Butters interrupted, and Eric wondered if he really did. He wondered if Butters hated him just as much as everyone else, but only pretended to be okay with what they had done. It seemed like a long time ago, but both of their hands were to blame for this.

_Or maybe it was just Eric and he threw Butters into it like he always did._

“But if I didn't you wouldn't be here.”

“The gun isn't to blame, and it was an accident. Honestly, I wasn't sure if we could actually go through with it.”

“We could have.” Eric said. He was shaking now. “We could have done it, and I still _want_ to...”

“Clyde already has to go through with his mistakes, Eric. The only thing the both of us need is time to get this through our heads.”

 _When did he become so mature?_ Eric wondered.

_Or maybe I've just always been the fool._

“Do you have to go back in a little bit?” Butters asked and Eric nodded.

He knew the half hour must be over soon, but he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave Butters behind to where he would be alone with his mind again.

There was Kyle, and Wendy, and Kenny, but they didn't compare to how Butters could help him. He _needed_ him.

“You're staying at a hospital too, right? What is it called again?” Butters watched as Eric's face retorted to displeasure.

“Peak View.”

Two words was all it took for Butter's face to light up. Eric raised an eyebrow at this and Butters gave a small smile.

“What's with the face?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, it's just that...somebody I know goes there too. I miss him a lot.”

“Him?” Eric asked. He watched Butters shift uncomfortably in his seat, like he was about to unload something heavy.

The blonde turned towards Eric and grinned.

“You know that...I'm gay, right Eric?”

“Yeah.” Eric said. Butters blinked slowly and laughed to himself.

“There's someone there that I actually like. A lot. Do you know someone by the name of Kenny?”

“Kenny?” Eric's eyes widened. “Kenny McCormick?”

“You do know him!” Butters smiled and the room lit up in joyous harmony. “Yes, he's there and I've been trying to talk to him but I just can't get him to come back to see me!”

“You...like him?” Eric asked and Butters felt embarrassed. He covered his face with his hands.

“Yeah, but we haven't really told anybody yet because we wanted to keep it ourselves for the longest time.” Butters found the need to look Eric in the eyes again. “You don't think it's weird do you?”

Eric said nothing. He wanted to tell Butters about what was going on with him, about him not showing up for their therapy sessions and about what was found in his bedroom, but Eric only grinned back.

“Of course not. Why would I?”  
Butters lit up like the world was whole again, and Eric wished desperately he could fit the pieces again.

“You'll tell him to come and see me, won't you?” Butters asked, and Eric nodded.

“On my life.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for the wait with this hiatus! I hope this makes up for the lack of time! Finals have been over but I have been working pretty much non-stop, so I will have until the end of June to really get back into gear with this fic! I have several plans and I hope you guys are ready for them!
> 
> Either way, feedback and comments are always appreciated! You guys rock, thanks for reading!


	7. the retaliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no words to say.
> 
> This update took...forever. I'm really sorry that it took so long, but hopefully I'll be able to crank out the rest of the chapters before the end of the year. I know that's kind of saying something, since I literally only have two months to do it, but I don't have many more chapters planned. I think I'm going to stop the fic by the 10th chapter. One of my goals by writing this was to try my hand at a multi-chap, and I think I'm doing a pretty decent job considering that I never got this far in any other multi-chaps I have written before, so I'm proud of myself when it comes to that.
> 
> I did start another multi-chap, obviously more Kyman-themed than this one since this fic is more centered on Cartman's development than just the romantic elements, but if you guys are interested, it's a When Harry Met Sally AU called "it had to be you." (it's on my dash, if you're interested, the first part is there). It'll be a five chapters in length, and I'm having a fun time with those ideas since broken road is going to be coming to a close pretty soon.
> 
> Thanks for all of your support so far. I really do wanna thank you guys for sticking around, I know my updating schedule is really messed up (it's already almost been a year since I published this, what in the world...), but I do want to thank you guys for continuing to leave feedback and comments. It really does mean the world to me and I just wanna say thanks, again.
> 
> Hopefully you guys really like this chapter. It was fun to write, and especially fun to piece together.

It wasn’t until the end of Catcher in the Rye that Eric really started connecting himself to the pieces.

He didn’t imagine himself as broken as Holden – maybe that was something he was supposed to realize the further he got into it. Regardless, here he was, reaching the conclusion and feeling himself deteriorate from the inside. No wonder that Chapman guy clutched onto it like a fucking bible. Eric leaned back on his bed and flipped the last few pages before putting it on top of his head and closing his eyes. It must have already been past two in the morning, but sleep had never been Eric’s ally. How was he going to sleep now, when mixed nausea from the book and the visit to see Butters were spinning in his head?

He touched his stomach, imagining what it would feel like to have a bullet stuck in there. It would probably hurt for a little while, but there’d be some kind of happiness with it, kind of like those endorphins Wendy was talking about. It had only been a few hours since he came back from the hospital. Eric tried to occupy himself with reading, taking a short shower, jacking off a couple of times. It didn’t really seem to fill the void that nothing was resolved from seeing Butters. Kenny was still missing, and Eric couldn’t have crushed his friend like that. Butters played it off like he was content, but deep down, Eric knew there was a storm in that gut of his. Whether it was as chaotic as the one Eric faced, he couldn’t say.

There was a chance that tomorrow would erase these feelings, Eric thought. Kenny will be found, Butters will stay safe, and Eric will keep the small fragments of sanity he had left. There were only the pounding hours that everyone had left.

* * *

 

When Eric walked through Kyle’s door the next afternoon, he spotted Wendy at his desk. Her hair was sweeping against her shoulders, pieces falling off in a way Eric could only recognize from paintings. She could be a portraiture herself and neither of them would know. Glancing up from a book, Wendy sent a sordid smile. There was a puffiness around her eyes that instantly sent off something strange in Eric.

“What’s going on?” Eric tried to play nonchalant when he sat down on the other side.

For a moment it looked like Wendy was going to stay silent, until she closed the book and laid it on her knees.

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded cracked. “I just had a really bad fight with my boyfriend this morning.”

“Boyfriend?” Eric questioned. He sat down at his usual spot and waited for her to take out a tissue to wipe her face.

There were subtle mascara streaks down her cheekbones that stuck around. Eric couldn’t remember Wendy telling him she was in a relationship, but then again, it wasn’t like he had cared before.

Wendy gave Eric a soft expression, like she was looking through him.

“Stan Marsh. He used to live in South Park years ago, but since then he moved to Denver with his family. You didn’t know him?”

Eric couldn’t say that he did. When he shook his head, she only glanced down at the ground. Eric knew he didn’t have the time and attention to grab names while he was in school, but even if he did, he felt like he’d have lied for her. It must have been some asshole to make her cry like that, he thought.

“So…” Eric scratched the back of his neck. Wendy sniffled and looked up.

“I know this is throwing a bunch of stuff on you, and I’m sorry for that.” She said. “It’s just been hard. I’m doing all of this work while he’s not even sure if he’s coming back home. It’s just this huge mess and every time I try to talk sense into him, he finds another excuse to stay away.”

“It sounds like…this has been happening for a while?” Eric knew he couldn’t play the empathy card for shit, and a part of him wanted to shut up and let the girl unload. When Wendy found Eric’s gaze across the room, he felt a wave of discomfort roll over his back. There was a cold emotion behind her eyes, one that Eric hadn’t seen before.

“Ever since the move, I’d say. We’ve been together since we were kids, but it feels hollow now. I don’t even know what to say to him half the time, and this issue keeps popping up and...”

Wendy sighed, clutching the tissue in her hand. “I just don’t know if it’s worth it, y’know?”

“What’s worth it?” Eric began to ask, before realization stuck him as she passed an obvious expression. He licked his bottom lip. “Oh.”

“When you’re with somebody for a long time, they kind of just _stick_ on you.” Wendy leaned forward in her chair. “You develop all of their habits. When they say something a certain way, you go along with it, and your friends remark on how in sync you are with them, when really, it was just a repetition. Being with him the past couple of years especially felt like that, my girlfriends said that saw that in me. But what if I didn’t want to be an extension of another person?”

Wendy closed her eyes as tears slowly fell down. “I couldn’t imagine losing myself that way.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to feel that way in a relationship.” Eric mumbled. “Not that I’d know, but…”

“It’s just convoluted bullshit.” Wendy cursed. “I know that what I want is for everything to stay normal, for the routine to be just that, but every day passes by and I wonder if I’m missing out on something just because I’m happy being safe.”

Eric didn’t know how to be like Kyle. He wished he could say words that would make someone feel better, but by telling her to break it off, it would make her feel worse. Then again, maybe it was the validation that she was looking for, he wondered. She could only play modest for so long. Eric sighed as he dug his hands in his pockets.

“I think you’re doing the best you can do.” It was a guessing game, Eric thought, but anything was better than the silence neither of them preferred. “It’s his loss if he can’t learn to compromise.”

“What if it isn’t him, though?” Wendy asked. “It could just…”

“It’s _not_ you.” Eric stated. “It’s easy to say that it’s your fault, but that’s putting yourself at a disadvantage. I think that’s it okay…to be selfish sometimes.”

Wendy didn’t say anything for a while. She continued sniffing before raising her head and looking towards the other side of the room. Eric watched her, the way she picked her head up like she removed any emotional weight on her shoulders. She tilted her head and grinned at Eric, and for that split second, Eric could feel himself shake. He had never seen a look of power on someone else before.

“Since when did you become all therapeutic?” Wendy chuckled. Eric shrugged, averting his gaze as his cheeks turned pink.

“It was really nothing.”

“I don’t think so.” Wendy stood up, brushing off her legs. She walked over and put a hand on Eric’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “It was nice to actually talk to someone about this that understands.”

Eric felt awkward as Wendy removed her hand and walked towards the door. It left a strong warmth, like pulsing blood to a fresh wound. She said she was getting paperwork before coming back, to which Kyle walked in right on time.

Eric could feel that previous pulsing vibrate now, and he smiled as Kyle put his stuff down.

“Since when do we get actual days of _sun_ anymore?” Kyle huffed. He threw off his coat and wiped his forehead. “I felt like Colorado was shifting to Florida, of all places.”

“You might not want to bring a coat, then.” Eric joked. It was easier for the two of them to play around than months ago, when Eric first put his ass in the chair. Kyle sat down and started wiping off his glasses.

“Yeah, well, on any other day I’d be fighting for warmth like a bear in the Arctic. Now it’s _tolerable_ and it upsets me because I overdressed.” Kyle put his glasses back on and grinned. “Maybe it’s just harder for you because it’s freezing in here, all the time.”

“One gets used to having a blanket as a shawl.” Eric mumbled.

Kyle laughed as he opened a couple of folders. Most of their session as of late were just conversations that trailed off into nowhere, and Eric didn’t mind. Not having to talk about anything _repressed_ or _hidden_ was more comforting than just leaving him alone. Kyle scanned the room, narrowing his eyebrows.

“Now, now, where’d did Wendy go?”

“She was here – she said she had to go do some things.” Eric said. Kyle nodded as he glanced toward the door.

“Ah, I see. You two talked a bit before I came?”

“A little.” Eric shrugged. “It wasn’t long before you showed up.”

“Well, from what I can tell, I’m glad that Wendy is doing pretty well with my patients. You two seem to be getting along well, from what I can see.” Kyle guessed. Eric remembered the way her hand felt on his shoulder and he became hot. He nodded.

“That’s good. Wendy is going to help me talk to the supervisors of Peak View to try to see if we can have another go at that day trip I was telling you about.”

“Didn’t you say that they disapproved of it?” Eric asked.

“I _did_. However, I feel strongly about how I should get all of you guys together for some time away from his place. Taking walks about the area is fine, but actually being secluded like this? I don’t want any of you guys to feel like they’re trapping you in here. That’s why I wanted to talk to you as well, Eric.” Kyle leaned and grinned widely. “I know that you have such a way with words.”

“I do?” Eric asked. Kyle laughed as he took out a piece of paper from a folder and handed it to him. Eric stared down at the blank petition in his hands.

“I know you do. You may not think about it too much, but you’re able to convince others. You’d be a very strong leader, Eric. That’s why I want you to help me out and get some of your friends to sign this. If we can get enough people to put their names down, it’d help us get the trip approved.”

“If you really want to put this power in my hands…” Eric said. He wasn’t sure if he’d agree with the compliments, but he took them in regardless.

“There’s a reason I’m putting you up for this.” Kyle replied. “I realize all of the ways you’ve changed these past few months, and I really think that out of anybody else, you could convince the others to help with this. I know you’ve got your own things going on, so I’m not trying to force you into something you don’t want. However, I do think this experience would be the best for you, as well as my other patients. You guys would definitely get something out of breathing the fresh air, not feeling like you’re stuck in the midst of trees.”

“It’d be fun.” Eric mumbled. He tucked the paper in his pocket as Kyle gave a small smile. Eric wouldn’t mind doing this just to see Kyle smile like that again.

Kyle flipped over another paper on his desk and trailed down. “So, how did the visit to the hospital go?”

“You know about that?” Eric didn’t realize Kyle heard about the visit to Butters. Kyle looked back at him and nodded.

“It’s on your records as well as…well, I heard about it from the front. I think it’s awesome you were able to see one of your friends, especially after everything that’s been going on.”

When Eric shifted in his chair, Kyle softened his expression. “I realize it’s kind of touchy to talk about him, so if you don’t want to…”

“It’s fine.” Eric said. “He’s doing better. I didn’t get very long to talk to him, though.”

“And his…?” Kyle touched his chest. Eric grimaced as a similar pain rushed through him.

“It’s healing. He didn’t talk about it much.”

Kyle didn’t say anything, jotted the words down on his notepad. Eric could feel sweat pick at his forehead. Kyle started tapping the desk with his pen as he finished.

“I’m glad that he’s doing better. I know that the two of you are pretty close.”

“He’s my best friend.” Eric could hardly believe those words slipped through his lips. When Kyle nodded in response, Eric felt a strange relieve of recognizing it within himself.

“I’ve never even picked up a gun before.” Kyle said. “I know my old friends used to try to convince me to go to the shooting ranges with them all the time. I’m not really against the rights, but there would’ve been something weird about carrying one. Targeting something, having the capability of so many things in your grasp…it’s crazily euphoric.”

“It’s terrible.” Eric muttered. “It’s a gun that hurt Butters.” _Or maybe it was only me_.

“Butters?” Kyle asked, and Eric blinked when he remembered not everyone used that name.

“It’s a name that he goes by.”

“That’s an interesting name.” Kyle chuckled. “Does it bother you that we’re talking about this?”

“It had to be sometime, right?” Eric asked. He was shaking harder now, the sweat tickling his ears. He licked his bottom lip as Kyle leaned back.

“I only want you to talk about it if you feel willing, and comfortable.”

“With you, it’s easy.” Eric said. “You won’t look at me funny for the things that I’ve done, even though you have the full right to. If I had to talk about it…I’m glad it’s with you.”

Kyle spared a grateful smile before flipping his notepad. Eric sighed.

“When I first found out what happened to her, I was angry. It surprised even me because my mom was someone that got into these situations of her own doing, and usually, I’d keep myself out of it. But Clyde was someone that was _near_. His presence would stick to me like worn gum on a shoe, and I knew if I left it alone, I’d want to strangle myself when the time came. So, I figured out from one of my mom’s contacts where I could snag two guns.”

Eric balled his fists, images of red and black blending together in his mind. Kyle was frozen, listening to Eric with full concentration.

“Was Liane aware of what was going on?”

“No.” Eric said. He narrowed his eyebrows. “I made sure to go late at night, while she was working with another client.”

“Go on.” Kyle replied.

“When I told Butters what I was wanting to do, he didn’t want to go with me. He found using the guns pointless, but then again, he was already detached from his family enough to not understand the anger a boy feels when his mother is a whore.”

Eric could see a slip of emotion pass Kyle’s eyes, but he continued.

“I knew that Clyde was going to be staying after-school, and I had already planned where he’d go. For a couple of days, I watched him on his usual routes between classes, ways he’d get around. I was ready to take my anger to get rid of it. So, I gathered everything I could need – masks, extra clothes. Butters went to the school with me the following day, and we found him.”

“So, what happened then?” Kyle asked.

“It was a long hallway, near the gym. Clyde was looking through his locker, but the school was about to close down. Butters and I hid around the corner until we could get a spot where the cameras couldn’t track us. Eventually, we got Clyde where he wanted, and when I took my first shot, the bullet missed. Clyde only got a glimpse of us before he sprinted. Butters was faster than me, and was able to tackle Clyde to the ground. He wouldn’t shoot – that wasn’t Butters.”

“But you?” Kyle could watch Eric pause before continuing.

“I aimed my gun but they were fighting so fast it was hard to keep track. I thought I had Clyde where I wanted – a shot in the leg so he could stop running. But when I shot Butters in the chest, I knew it was done. Clyde ran away and it was the end, and then I got here a few days later.”

The silence took over the two of them as Kyle finished listened. He closed his notebook.

“I know that must have been hard to talk about, Eric. I think that regardless of the bad situation, you were able to think about it. You were able to talk to _me_ about it, and I think that it makes more difference than you could think.”

“I’m surprised you’re not running out the door.” Eric said. He was looking at the floor, hands on his knees. Kyle only could shake his head.

“You’ve been through a lot. When someone carries anger like that, it can take over their actions. It’s possible that you could branch away from yourself long enough to feel justified. I know you’ve changed, Eric.”

“But have I really?” Eric asked, and Kyle lifted an eyebrow in confusion. “I understand that what I’m doing here is supposed to help. I’m trying to control my emotions, and maybe, I come off that way. But I know that is Clyde was in front of me, and if I had a gun in my hand, loaded and ready with the trigger, that it wouldn’t take much for me to pull it.”

“Is there anything you can think of stopping you?” Kyle said. Eric looked back at him, and swallowed.

“The time I’ve spent talking to you, probably.”

Kyle lingered on those words, before smiling in a tender way. Eric could feel the tears coming and he squeezed his eyes shut, crying for the first time since he arrived at Peak View. Kyle walked over to him, handed him a tissue, before Eric felt a strong embrace around him.

Kyle had wrapped his arms around Eric’s shoulders, pulling him in. As Eric continued to cry, he realize Kyle was shaking in the same way, and when Eric felt something wet other than his eyes, he cried harder.

“I’m here for you, Eric.” Kyle whispered, his voice struggling to not cave on the both of them. “Always remember that. I’m here whenever you need me.”

Maybe someone like Holden just needed a pair of ears to listen.

* * *

 

Eric ended up staying longer than his session was scheduled.

He was fine with it. His mind had been emptied, and he walked through the halls back to his room like an emotional zombie. The rest of the afternoon had blended into the late evening, where Kyle and Eric spent the rest of their session collecting themselves. When Kyle packed back up and left, Eric realized he needed someone like Kyle in his life. However, more than that, he needed general company, to feel like he wouldn’t lose himself while he was here. He started walking through the main hallway, before seeing someone walk out of an adjacent room.

It was a tall, slender figure. They closed the door quietly before making a brisk walk towards the elevators. Eric squinted his eyes, before recognizing that whoever it was, they left out of Kenny’s room. Eric glanced left and right before he walked towards the room.

He pressed his ear against the door, hearing the shuffling of jeans and clothes on the other side. Grunts and curses were audible, and Eric knew it had to be Kenny. He didn’t bother knocking as he pushed himself through the door, seeing a shirtless Kenny struggling with a belt. The blonde glanced back, his cheeks reddening.

“Dude! What the fuck, I’m changing here…”

“Where the hell have you been?” Eric asked. He may as well have slammed the door close. Kenny put a finger on his lips as he took Eric by the wrist and pulled him further inside.

“Keep your fucking voice down. You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”

“It might as well have been years. You haven’t been going to class, you were never around when I tried looking for you…”

Kenny didn’t say anything, regardless of Eric’s anger. He slid on a t-shirt, right as Eric noticed the marks that trailed down his neck. They were dark red.

“Now I fucking know those aren’t mosquito bites.” Eric gritted his teeth. Kenny rolled his eyes.

“Who fucking cares?” Kenny mumbled. Eric looked towards the bed and saw a package, zipped and full of what looked like yellow pills. Eric reached out and grabbed it before Kenny could stop him.

“You really wanna leave this out in the open?”

“Give it back, asshole!” Kenny snagged it back as he threw it under the bed. “Listen, I’ll tell you about what’s going on, if you promise me you’ll leave it alone and you won’t say a word to anyone else.”

Eric didn’t make any gesture, and Kenny sat on the bed.

“I’ve been…needing extra encouragement lately. I’ve been here long enough to know that I can’t make it without some kind of stimulation on my own. So, a dealer has been helping me out.”

“A dealer?” Eric asked. Kenny sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Jackson has been helping me get the drugs I need. For a small fee, one of which I’m happy to oblige with…”

“You’ve been _fucking_ her?” Eric whispered, mortified. He curled his hands into fists. “You’ve been letting that bitch suck you off just to get drugs?”

“You don’t understand.” Kenny hissed. “I need these drugs. It’s the only way I can keep myself away from jumping out of a window. Giving that bitch something in exchange is only minimal pay for what I’d have to deal with without them.”

Eric shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Well, you might as well, cause it’s not stopping until I get out of this hellhole.”

“Do you even realize what all of us went through, knowing you were gone? How the fuck do you think Butters feels knowing you’re screwing around with that _bitch_?” Eric was almost screaming, but he stopped with the name slipped his mouth. Kenny paused as he pushed himself off the bed, looking close into Eric’s eyes.

“How the fuck do you know about Leo? What’s between us is between _us_ , and it has nothing to do…”

Kenny stopped. He froze, his face becoming pale. Eric could feel an aura of rage come off of Kenny, and he started to step away as Kenny got even closer.

“I fucking knew it.” Kenny whispered. “I should have known from the moment you showed your goddamn face here…”

“Kenny, please.” Eric backed up even faster.

“You were the one that fucking shot him!” Kenny yelled.

He reached for his nearest drawer, pulling out an army knife. Eric sprinted out of the room, slamming the door as Kenny beat himself up against it. He yelled into it, as Eric pushed to keep the door closed.

“Leo may be able to forgive you for what’ve you done, but you better wait you motherfucker, because I’m going to be coming after you.” Kenny banged on the door on last time before dead silence hung in the air.

Eric caught his breath, seeing the darkness stand still before his eyes, before he ran back to his room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
